Like Godfather, Like Godson Book 1
by serpentine097
Summary: That old piece of crap revamped! Oh yeah, you want a summary? Right then. What if Dumbledore agrees with McGonagal that Sirius raising Harry's a better option? Cannon for years 1, 2, 4 and 5. multi or no pairings.
1. Prologue

Prologue

AN: Serpentine's back! I have been insanely busy and bla bla so enjoy the damn story already!

Ah, halloween. The scariest day of the year. It is the year 1981 and the world is at war. Too cheesy? Ok, let me try again. It is 1981. A hidden world where the impossible is real and magic abounds is being threatened. Better? Ok, moving on! Right, so the sich is, a really bad wizard person by the name of Voldemort has decided to take over wizarding England. Now, the thing you have to know about Voldemort is, he's evil. More evil than evil. Don't believe me? Ok then, let me share some of his favorite hobbies:

non-magical people (muggle) hunting

city pillaging

woman and child raping

people killing

snake cavorting

The list goes on and on. So why hasn't he been stopped yet? Well, he has an army to back him up for starters. They are either seeking to take a bit of his power or controled by very dark magic to do anything he says. Also, a lot of his army are powerful aristocrats that have a lot of money and influence in the wizarding ministry. To top it off, he is ridiculously powerful and insanely skilled at a lot of forms of magic.

In Yorkshire, England there was a little village called Godric's Hollow. Wizards lived in it, as well as some muggles. A family of three could be found in a little cottage, having a good time. The dad, James Potter, was smiling at his son, Harry Potter. Lily Potter, his wife, was looking on in disapproval. Meanwhile, Harry Potter, just a year old, was happily zooming on a little toy broom round and round the living room, nearly destroying pretty much everything in his path. It was his first birthday present. Toy brooms were only designed to fly a couple feet off the air, but James and his friends didn't believe such enchantments to be allowed on a broom, so they stripped the broom, making it a normal, all be it tiny, broomstick.

Harry squealed with joy as he zipped and twirled around.

"I swear, this kid can fly better than he can walk!" stated James. "Just like your old man, eh boy?"

"This scares me," said Lily.

"Cheer up, Lils," said James. "Soon, he'll be pranking the hell out of anyone like his daddy."

"All the more reason to be scared," said Lily. "At least he's got my eyes."

James nodded. "He'll be a real chick magnet with those eyes. I bet you got all the chicks with 'em eh Lils?"

He received a punch on the arm in response.

"Ah, you hurt me Lils. You hurt me bad," said James, sighing dramatically.

Lily rolled her eyes. "When was Sirius supposed to get here?"

"Dunno. Its 10 to 6, still pretty early."

There came a knock at the door.

"Oh, there he is now," said James, getting up. "Harry please don't hit my head!"

Harry was happily doing figure eights around the heads of his parents, a feet no kid his age should've been able to do. "My little flying protege," he said, walking down the short entrance hall towards the front door. He opened it.

"Sirius, you gotta see Harry. He's a natural!"

"A natural, you say?" said a high, cold voice. In front of the doorway stood a tall male figure. A traveling cloak was wrapped around his lythe, athletic body. An insignia glowed sharply on the hood of the cloak. It was a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth. He pulled back the hood, revealing a face that would scare even Satan himself. His eyes were maroon red. His pupiles were vertical slits like a cat's. His nose, if you could call it a nose, was flat, with only slits for nostrils. His mouth was extremely thin. "May I come in?"

"Nice costume, Tommy boy," growled James, drawing his wand. "I'll cut the bullshit and just go straight to this. Leave this house 'cause death will take me before I give my son to you!"

"Ah, nothing like a bit of brivado," said Voldemort.

James ignored him. Over his shoulder, he cried, "Lily. Its him. Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off for as long as I can!"

Lily went from annoyed housewife to insanely pissed and battle-ready housewife in about two nanoseconds. With a few expert swishes of her wand, the door to the hallway was closed, locked, and warded. She added about 5 more wards for good measure, knowing full well all of those were only security blankets. She sent an imobilization curse at the broom, stopping it. She scooped up Harry, broom and all, and ran as fast as she could up the stairs, Harry squealing and yelling, "Gimme broom back! Gimme broom back!" all the way up.

"Boys, can't think of nothing else but flying," muttered Lily, storming into Harry's nursery. She closed and locked the door, warding it as well. She dropped Harry into his crib. She had been taught how to prepare for this eventuality. With a flick of her wand, runic symbols glowed briefly on Harry's crib and Harry before disappearing altogether.

"By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter," she chanted in latin, drawing upon the runic power. "By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter. By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter. By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter. By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter. By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter. By my magic and blood, protect Harry Potter!" Harry and her cried out in pain as the blood ritual was complete.

"Do you think that you can stop me?" asked Voldemort.

"Won't know till I try will I?" said James sweetly. "Avada Kedavra!"

he unforgivable killing curse caught Voldemort by surprise. He dodged out of the way just in time to avoid the green light of death. "Unforgivables? Tut, tut, tut." he said. "Crucio!"

"Protego Totalum!" James roared. A golden shield of energy repeled the orange curse, sending it back towards Voldemort, who sidestepped it.

"Balet Coster," he hissed. A ball of acid shot toward James, who jumped to the left. The door wasn't so lucky, as it was corroded into a puddle in a second.

"Terra Serpens!"

"Reducto Maxima!" The two spells struck their targets. Vines sprouted from the ground, ensnaring Voldemort. James's left arm was hit, fracturing all the bones in it.

"Reparo Maxima," James hissed, mending his arm. He discovered that trick after a brutal quidditch game.

Voldemort's eyes flickered with surprise. Then, he dissolved the vines with a flick of his wand. "Incerinada Saevio!" A ripple of jet black flames rushed towards James, who blocked it with a shield just in time.

"Reducto! Confringo! Sectumsempra!" The curses came fast out of his wand.

Voldemort was never hit. "I bore of this," he growled. "tardus respiro!" The curse hit. James felt as it a giant hand was crushing his windpipe. Then, he remembered the counter curse.

"ordinarius respiro," he gasped. The hold on his lungs was gone.

"Impressive," said Voldemort. "Time to take it up a notch. "Avada Kedavra!"

James jumped to avoid the curse. He looked at the puddle. An idea came to him. But first...

"Terra Carcer!" he cried. Voldemort was slightly surprised. That was all James needed. He transfigured the puddle of goop that was once his front door into a 6 feet tall gollum made of wood that charged Voldemort head-on.

"Telum incendia," Voldemort said lazily, spearing the gollum with a powerful flaming spear curse that incinerated the wooden gollum in seconds. Voldemort easily banished the sinkhole James created.

"Shit!" James thought.

"Terra serpens," Voldemort growled. The same vines Voldy had used on James wrapped around James now. He tried to banish them, but Voldemort just had to be ridiculously powerful. James tried to move his arms, but the vines were keeping a tight hold on them. Also, these vines had little snakeheads on them that bit at you, poisoning you instantly. James stared defiantly at Voldemort. "Kill me then, you bastard," he growled.

"Avada Kedavra." The curse struck, and James Potter fell dead, his expression of defiance strangely never leaving his face.

Voldemort chuckled. He strode into the house, right to the sitting room door. He opened it. Locked.

"Reducto Maxima!" The door glowed briefly, but the door held. "Reducto Maxima! Reducto Maxima!" The curses hit, but the door was still there. "Damn you Potter!" Voldemort bellowed. "The boy shall be mine!" In response, a ball of orange light shot out the tip of his wand, destroying the door and any wards behind it. Voldemort looked slightly surprised, but then he walked inside.

He took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. "Where's the damn nursery?" he muttered. He tried the door in front. Locked. "Avada Kedavra!" he growled. The door disintegrated instantly. Yep, that was the nursery. Lily was there, along with the Potter brat.

"Hello, Lily," said Voldemort. Lily turned around.

"You're going to have to kill me first," she cried.

"Just like your husband," Voldemort chortled.

"You bastard," she hissed.

"Language, Lily," said Voldemort. "Now, stand aside, you silly girl."

"No, not Harry. Please not Harry. Take me instead!"

"Avada Kedavra!" The curse hit her. Voldemort turned to Harry. "At last!" he roared. "I have you now, Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra!" The green curse sped towards Harry, who stared at it in wonderment. It hit him in the forehead. Instantly, runic symbols glowed into life, reflecting the spell back towards Voldemort, who was so shocked he couldn't move. The spell struck...

AN: next few paragraphs copied word for word from sorc's stone

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again-the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone.,Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no-even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls . . . shooting stars. . . . Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent-I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense-for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too-well- noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going

to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are- are-that they're- dead.''

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it. . . Oh, Albus. . ."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know ... I know ..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But-he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke-and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's-it's true!" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done ... all the people he's killed ... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean-you can't mean the people who live here!" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore-you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son-I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous-a legend-I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future-there will be books written about Harry-every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

"Yes. Because that is far worse than being raised by a snobbish woman, an ill-tempered man, and a spoiled brat. Oh, what a pitty!"

"I understand your concern," stated Dumbledore, "but Harry Potter will live here, and that is that."

"Please, Albus, with all due respect, I implore you to reconsider. Isn't there someone else? I'm sure Sirius Black would take care of him. Certainly he's not related to Harry by blood, but from what I know, he'd lay down his own life for that boy. James and Lilly made him his godfather. Him!"

Dumbledore sighed, his eyes set on the distant sky. "Perhaps, perhaps you're right. Love has a magic of its own."

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky-and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Ah, Hagrid. You've arrived at last," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved.

"Well, here's the little tyke. Fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol."

"I fear that there has been a slight change of plans, Hagrid," said Dumbledore.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. It is just... I believe that Harry would be much happier being raised by his godfather. Please, do forgive me for making you fly all the way here for nothing."

"No no, Professor Dumbledore Sir. Grimauld Place ain't that far from 'ere. I'll just drop 'em off and be on my way."

"Thank you Hagrid. What would I do without you."

Hagrid, after making sure the tiny bundle was secure against his chest, revved the engine, and flew away. Dumbledore looked up at the vast, starry sky where the huge shape of the motorcycle was becoming smaller and smaller. "Good luck, Harry Potter," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

AN: Alright, this is probably going to be a pretty big series, so I'm just shouting out to all of ya, who wants to be a beta reader for me? 'cause my writing skills are, well, not really good. and I promise to not go dormant again. so, pm me if you're all for it. anyways, bye!

Well, here we are 10 years later. Actually, no. Here we are, 9 years and 10 months later. It turns out McGonagal was right. Harry was perfectly happy with Sirius. He not only was raised to be fun-loving and outgoing, but... well, listen to this conversation and find out.

Sirius was pissed. I mean pissed beyond all unfathomable comprehension. He paced his room in Black Manner at No. 12, Grimauld Place, his wand out, blasting photos repeatedly with powerful blasting curses. The target in question was a short, plump man with watery eyes, Peter Alfred Petigrew.

"Fuck you. Reducto!" A picture of four boys, smiling and waving happily at the camera, lost a face savagely. "I'll fucking kill you!" he roared. "I swear it I'll fucking kill you!"

Then, he saw a bright light outside his window. He thought he heard the roar of an engine getting closer and closer. He picked up his wand, and his favorite object lately, a remmington shotgun that he strapped to his shoulder. He dashed out the door, down the stairs, and finally, wrenching the double doors leading outside open. He stared at a huge, flying harly davidson that was pulling up in front of the manner. Muggles gave it no hede, but Sirius, being a wizard and all, noticed it.

"Hagrid?" he asked.

The giant in question clambered off the motorcycle. Sirius noticed he was carefully carrying a small bundle in his arms. "'Ello, Sirius," he said, walking towards him.

"Did you hear, about... the Potters?"

"Yeah, I did," said Hagrid. "Showed up abou' 20 minutes after the place was destroyed. Came on Dumbledore's orders.

"I saw the place," croaked Sirius. "The bodies... the cottage... all gone. All thanks to that traitorous rat. I swear I'm gonna kill him, Hagrid. I knew he was shifty the minute I saw him."

"Now, don't go runnin' off like that," growled Hagrid. "It'll do more harm 'en good, it will."

"What, you're expecting me to sit around like this? Just let that bastard get away with it? For god's fucking sake he betrayed his friends! We gave him everything and this is how the little fucker pays us back!"

"Calm down!" Hagrid shouted. "May I come in? I got something that might cheer ya up a bit, and get yer mind off of stupid ideas."

Sirius nodded, motioning for Hagrid to follow him.

Ten minutes later and the two men were sitting on the kitchen table, (Hagrid having a magically modified comfy chair just for him), and two shotglasses of firewhisky. Hagrid made sure the bundle was absolutely secure in his lap.

"What's that thing you got there, Hagrid?" asked Sirius.

Hagrid didn't answer. Instead, he carefully lifted the little bundle and unpealed the blankets. Inside, a tiny baby was softly sleeping. Sirius gazed down at him.

"Why, that's Harry!" he breathed. "How, how'd you get him!"

"Was the only one that lived," said Hagrid. "You-Know-Who got blown away real good, and apparently, was all thanks to that little fella."

"No way," said Sirius, then, his mouth opened at the sight of a long, jagged scar on his forehead in the shape of a bolt of lightning.

"'tis true," said Hagrid, sipping his whisky. "Dumbledore asked me to bring 'im to you. Wondered if you wouldn't mind looking after him?"

"May I?" he asked.

At Hagrid's nod, Sirius carefully took the baby Harry, gazing into his piercing, emerald eyes.

"My boy," said Sirius. "My godson. I swore James and Lily I'd do anything to protect him, and I'll stand by that promise."

"There ya go," growled Hagrid. "Ya know how you can pay back that filthy rat? Raise him. Raise him well. Give him the love of a true father. Train 'im too. You're a good fighter, so make him be able to kick your arse. Make him into a man, a man that James and Lily would be proud of. Wormtail took James and Lily, but he sure as hell didn't take Harry. Remember that, Sirius."

Tears slid down Sirius's cheaks. "I, I will," he said. "You're right, Hagrid."

"There ya go," he said, smiling.

Then, Harry woke up and started to cry.

"Shshshsh, Uncle Sirius is here," Sirius said, stroking Harry's mop of messy black hair.

Harry looked around in bewilderment. He looked fearfully at the huge form of Hagrid, but his eyes lit up at the sight of Sirius's smiling face. "Pafoot! Uncle Pafoot!" he squealed, pulling Sirius's nose affectionately.

Sirius wept as he held the little baby in his arms. "Uncle Padfoot's gonna take care of you, alright?"

"Where Mummy and Daddy?"

"They're in a better place," said Sirius. "But Uncle Padfoot will make everything better."

Now, you'd expect a kid to cry over his mommy. Well, all Harry said was, "Ok!" and happily pulled on Sirius's nose.

Of course, years later, Sirius told Harry everything: about Voldemort's reign of terror, about the fidelius charm, which was used to hide secrets, about Sirius being the secret keeper but switching to Petigrew to trick the death eaters (which were Voldemort's minions), about how Petigrew betrayed them, and about how Voldemort killed his parents but in the attempt to kill Harry, the curse backfired and utterly destroyed Voldemort. Sirius took Hagrid's words to heart, also. At the age of five, Sirius had made Harry work out, and I'm not talking no sissy 20 minute video workout, I'm talking full 12 major muscle group hours long military style workout. Harry also had been taught various forms of martial arts, how to fight with various types of swords, how to throw a knife, how to shoot an arrow, how to survive in the wilderness, how to properly fire, duel with and maintain an assortments of guns, how to hunt, how to dance ballet, how to perform gymnastics, how to ride a bike, and even how to heal injuries with plants found in the wilderness. When Harry had asked about why he would need all this intenssive training, all Sirius would say is, "You never know when you might need it, kid. Now drop down and give me 20!"

Harry had also been taught how to swim, how to hold his breath underwater US navy seals style, how to cliff dive, how to SCUBA dive, how to snorkle, and how to fish. It may seem like a lot, but these lessons were applied through years.. Most importantly, Sirius had strictly told Harry to keep all his training a secret.

Now we're back to July 31st, 1991. It was Harry's birthday today. He was riding a nimbus 2000 racing broom, playing the wizard sport Quidditch. He was performing spectacular moves to the hearty approval of a large crowd of fans. He caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points.

"And Team Potter wins, beating team Slytherin Losers by an astounding 1000 points! Unbelievable ladies and gentlemen!"

"Get up!"

"It looks like team Harry Potter has come a far way in the UK league ladies and gentlemen."

"Get up!"

"I'm afraid that the Slytherin Losers are out of the playoffs!"

"Get! Up!"

Harry woke up, groggily looking around. He was back in his bedroom at number 12, grimmauld place, Sirius holding a bucket full of ice water in one hand, clearly sad that he wasn't going to use it.

"Come on, its 7 in the morning!" he muttered, clambering out of bed."

"Well, we have to go shopping today. It's your 11th birthday, remember? You're going off to Hogwarts!"

"Can't this wait a few more hours?" Harry muttered.

"Nope. Now get dressed. Kreacher'll have breakfast ready soon."

Harry, deciding arguing would get him in trouble, or worse, to make him do 50 1-handed push ups again, went into the bathroom to take a shower. After 10 minutes, he got out and got dressed into a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a Metallica t-shirt and a pair of sneakers.

Breakfast was good today: english muffins served with scrambled eggs, fruit salad, and pure orange juice. Kreacher, the house elf, happily gave Harry more fruit salad at his request. Finally, after they had had their fill, Sirius motioned Harry to follow him.

"Please let us go in the car," said Harry.

"Too long," said Sirius. He went into the drawing room, Harry unhappily following him. He took a ceramic pot down from a near-by shelf and pinched a small amount of emerald green powder between his thumb and middle finger.

"Incendio," he muttered, the fireplace roaring to life with a wave of his wand. He threw in the powder. With a roaring sound, the flames turned emerald green. He stepped into them. "The leaky cauldron!" he announced. A flash of flame later, and Sirius was gone.

"Dammit I hate flew travel," he muttered. He repeated the process, though, unlike Sirius, he landed in a heap on a hard, uncomfortable floor.

"You and flew travel just don't mix," commented Sirius.

"I know," muttered Harry unhappily."

"Now, be prepared for the adoring public."

Harry liked attention, not to the point of being an attention-seeking prick, but he liked it. However, when it came to his scar, he hated it. If it came to flying or other stuff, well... he loved attention alright.

"Is that... Harry Potter?" a woman asked, staring at him.

"Harry Potter!" another shouted.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back," cried a short man wearing a tophat.

"Wait, I think I remember you," said Harry. "You bowed to me once in a shop.

"He remembers!" cried the little man. "D'you hear that, he remembers me!"

"Stuff it, Dedalus," Sirius growled.

"Nice to see you too, Sirius," said Dedalus, grinning up at him.

For the next what seemed like millions of years, Harry was treated to handshakes, hugs, kisses, and cheers.

"Dorris Crockford, Mr. Potter. Can't believe I'm meeting you at last," greeted an old, dumpy woman.

Harry looked at Sirius, who nodded.

Sirius raised his wand and muttered a spell, causing a bright flare of light to almost blind everyone in the room. "Alright! Now, kindly leave Harry alone, for we have shopping to do."

As they exitted, Harry turned to Sirius. "You saved my life back there," he said.

Sirius chuckled. The surroundings were not too impressive. It was merely a small back yard, containing only a brick wall and a rusty trash bin. Sirius, however, approached the brick wall and tapped a pattern with his wand, causing the bricks to move. Finally, a huge archway formed from the bricks, leading to the most wondrous magical sight Harry had ever seen.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," said Sirius happily.

"This place has everything!" said Harry.

"Hold on there, first we need to get some money from your trust fund."

"My parents left me money?" asked Harry.

"They left you everything!" Sirius cried. "However, you have access only to your trust fund. The good stuff comes when you become an adult. Follow me."

The two walked down the cobblestone street, passing shops containing assortments of things from books to ingredients to broomsticks. Finally, they arrived at the largest building in the whole alley. It was made of snowy white marble, with stone steps leading to a pair of double doors, guarded by sword-wielding

"Goblins?" asked Harry.

"Tricky little fuckers, they are," said Sirius. "Just look at the doors.

Harry did. In golden, large letters it read:

Enter, stranger, but take hede;

of what awaits the sin of greed.

For those who take, but do not earn;

must pay most dearly in return.

So if you seek beneath our floors;

A treasure that was never yours.

Thief, you have been warned, beware;

of finding more than treasure there.

"They take the whole security thing seriously," said Harry.

"It'd be bad business if some bguy just robbed the place, wouldn't it?" asked Sirius.

"I guess," said Harry.

"You won't find a safer place in all of Great Britain to keep your stuff, not one, except for Hogwarts."

The two walked up a flight of stone steps, approaching the security goblins. They entered, approaching the bank teller, who was busy counting stacks of golden coins.

Sirius approached the goblin and inclined his head. "Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal," he said curtly.

"And does Mr. Potter have his key?" replied the goblin in a similar fashion.

Sirius fished around in his pocket, bringing out a tiny golden key that he gave to the goblin.

"Wait," said Sirius. "There was something else."

"Something else?" wondered Harry.

"Its about You-Know-What in the vault You-Know-Which."

The goblin nodded in understanding. "I will summon someone to take you down to your vaults. Griphook!" he cried. A tall, smartly-dressed goblin appeared out of nowhere.

"Yes?" said Griphook.

The teller approached him, whispering a quick message into Griphook's ear before handing Harry's key to him.

Finally, Griphook lead Sirius and Harry down a maze of marble halls, before they came to a set of railroad tracks. The goblin whistled, and a small railroad car whizzed out of the darkness to stop in front of them. "Get in," he ordered.

Sirius and Harry clambered inside. "You're gonna love this ride," said Sirius.

"What's it like?" asked Harry.

"You will know in, um, now."

Instantly, the car rocketed forward down the tunnel. It twisted, turned, swerved, spun, flipped, and even went down very steep inclines. Harry was whooping with joy all the way down.

"This is even better than a roller coaster!" said Harry.

Finally, the car stopped in front of a plain black door. The goblin stepped out, carrying a lamp which, with a snap of his fingers, lit up brightly. He turned the key in the lock, opening the door. Harry stepped inside. Harry knew Sirius was rich. Sirius worked for the ministry as someone who fought dark wizards, or an aurror, and it paid very well. Also, Sirius had inherited the black fortune, which was a lot. However, Sirius had made sure Harry never saw that much money. He had taken Harry on some luxurious vacations, but usually Harry was perfectly happy with amusement parks or cross country trips or campouts in the wilderness. This, however, was something different. There were heaping piles of gold, mountains of silver, huge mounds of bronze. Sirius, after muttering an expansion charm on a small bag, gave it to Harry, who happily scooped up large handfuls of gold, silver, and bronze until the charmed bag reached its limit. He put it in his pocket.

Next, the car rode deeper into the maze of tunnels, deeper than Harry thought it could go. He thought he saw flashes of fire.

"Dragons," said Sirius. "They sometimes guard the high-security vaults."

Griphook stepped out and approached the plain black door that was vault 713. He slid one long, pale finger down the door, causing a blue light to encumpase the door, dissolving it, revealing... a little brown package?

"What's that?: asked Harry.

"Don't know," said Sirius, scooping up the package and putting it in his pocket.

They rode up to the surface and went outside.

"Here's your supply's list," said Sirius. "I have to run some errands. If you're not back at the leaky cauldron in 35 minutes, you're doing an army crawl from the foyer to the other end of the house." said Sirius.

"Meany," griped Harry, receiving a painful taser to the collar bone in response.

Sirius wasn't at all worried for Harry's safety. Harry could take care of himself, and if he couldn't, Sirius had secretly hidden a tiny magical video camera on Harry's shirt that would tell him precisely where he was and what he was doing. Sirius didn't use it, believing that trust was important. However, if Harry was hit with a projectile, a fist, a spell, or something else, the camera would beep and Sirius would be alerted immediately.

Harry happily ran to the nearest shop, Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore of Diagon Alley. He browsed the bookshelves, looking for the books he needed. A few titles caught his eye though: Borderline Dark Curses: Defend yourself in Style, Pranker Curses for Pranksters, Gray Area Magic: Frowned upon but still legal ways to kick ass, and other such titles. Harry took them all. The book he needed he also took, then he went to browse for the transfiguration book and the standard book of spells, grade 1. He also got books entitled The Animal Within, Quick and Easy Ways to become an Animagus without the Hastle, and How to embrace the animal within instead of controling it. Harry finished purchasing his books and went to the next item on the list, potion supplies. He had always been somewhat interested in potions. He purchased a golden cauldron, (the list not specifying what kind of cauldron to buy), a set of brass scales, a morter and pestle and some stirring spoons. Harry noticed that he barely made a dent in his gold bag.

Next, he went to the apothecary. He declared this is least favorite shop for obvious reasons. The smells and sights in there were just too much. Eyeballs that Harry could've sworn were looking at him were in jars filled with liquids, guts, gizards, and innards hung from the ceiling, hearts, feathers, scales, and pretty much anything else was scattered everywhere, and he even saw some genetals. Harry quickly looked away, approaching the counter and telling the cashier what he needed. He quickly left the shop after he bought everything, heading towards Madame Malkin's Dress Robes for All Occasions.

A squat, buxom, middle-aged witch took his measurements and made him sit on a metal stool. Harry saw a tall, lanky, red-headed boy who looked to be the same age as him.

"'lo there," said Harry.

"Hi," said the boy.

"You here for robes too?"

The boy nodded. "First year. Cannot wait for Hogwarts. Reckon what house you'll be sorted in?"

"Gryfindor, hands down," said Harry.

The boy nodded in approval. "I really don't care much, as long as I don't end up in Slytherin. I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Hanging around wanabee dark lords was never my cup of tea," said Harry. The boy laughed.

"Say, you play quidditch? You look like the type."

"I want to be seeker," said Harry. "Too bad first years aren't allowed their own brooms."

The boy chuckled. "You still fly though, right?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," said Harry. "But I've never actually played Quidditch.

The boy nodded. "Its loads of fun, I tell you. You wanna be seeker? That's the hardest position on the team."

"My uncle thinks I'll give my dad a run for his money, which is saying a lot. When he was at Hogwarts, he won Gryfindor the cup seven years in a row."

The boy whistled. "That's impressive! My name's Ron Weasley, what's yours?"

"I'm Harry Potter," said Harry.

Ron just stared at him. "Harry Potter?"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, yeah, save it."

"What do you mean?"

"Always hated the whole famous name idea. I want to be famous for something I did, not for something I, well, did by accident."

"Well, it may've been an accident, mate, but You-Know-Who's dead and gone forever thanks to ya," said Ron. "My parents still have nightmares about how it was like back then. You ended all that."

Harry nodded. "Still. If I want to be famous for killing him, I want to be famous to actually going up to that guy and killing him, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you're saying. I'm actually surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad works for the ministry, so we're treated to a whole team of bigheads who think they're the rulers of the world. You're definitely not like that, and you're a Potter. For intense and purposes, you should be ordering me to bow down to you or something, but you do none of that crap."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, which reminds me. I command you to kneel before me, Weasley!"

Ron just laughed. "I like you," he said. "Friends?"

Harry extended his hand and shook Ron's hand in response. Their robes were done, and they waved each other goodbye. Harry left the shop. Then, he saw a sign saying, "Magical Minajury: any kind of pet you'll find it here, whether it be just a companion or a bonded familiar!"

Harry stepped inside the shop. Pets of all kinds, shapes and sizes milled about. He saw the norms like dogs, cats, and hamsters. Then, there were the completely bizarre animals like rabbits that turned into tophats and back, rats that crackled with lightning, winged turtles, and even a few multi-colored spheres that Harry wasn't sure what they were.

A sign caught his attention near the corner of the store: "Caution: Dangerous creatures here. We at the Magical Minajury do not take responsibility for any stabbing, poisoning, disembowelments, soul removal, brain removal, magic removal, life removal, or any such fatalities. Thank you and please come again to the Magical Minajury."

"Nice place," Harry thought before deciding to check it out. He approached the sign. Instantly a tall, bearded man who looked like the stereotypical wizard appeared out of nowhere.

"Please sign this paper before stepping inside," he croaked. Harry shrugged and signed it with the quill the wizard gave him. "I'll have the morticians ready."

Harry stepped inside. There were significantly less people there, and absolutely no kid his age. He always liked thrillseeking, however. He explored the cages of snakes, lions, and formless blobs of shadow that undulated menacingly towards him. Harry went up and down aisles, looking at the cages and protective spheres. Then, one particular cage caught his eye. The inhabitant was a large bird that looked, well, reptilion. Its plumage was black and silver, and there were scales running down from its head to where the neck and the body met. Its tail was longer than most birds, and Harry saw a barbed spike that curved upwards on the tip. Its claws were especially sharp, glittering like diamonds. A nearby store worker saw him.

"Ah, you're interested in cockatrices?" he asked.

"Cockatrices?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. That's a cockatrice. It is the unprecedented hybrid of the phoenix, the purest creature known to man and the icon of light, and the basilisk, the most feared creature known to man and the harbanger of darkness. They share the deadliest and purest elements of both species, making them insanely difficult to kill. The rooster is not fatal to these, as it is to basilisks. The only thing that is known to kill them easily is prolonged exposure to mirrors."

"Mirrors?" asked Harry.

"A basilisk will die right there if it sees its reflection," explained the worker. "A cockatrice will take longer to die from its own reflection. I think its 3 hours. And even if these die, it'll be reborn, like a phoenix. These creatures live for thousands upon thousands of years. I think this guy's celebrated his 1999th birthday a few days back, but I'm not sure."

"How much?" asked Harry.

"How much?" asked the store worker, gobsmacked. "My dear boy, these creatures are nutoriously tricky. To control one and to tame one will take years upon years of intense training. Not even proffessional wizards have been able to accomplish this."

The cockatrice lifted its head and looked up, its golden eyes locking with Harry, who quickly looked away.

"Hey kid I don't bite," came a voice in his mind. Harry clapped a hand to his head,

"What's wrong?" asked the store worker, taking out his wand.

"Nothing," said Harry. "But I never knew these guys were telepathic."

"They're not," said the store worker.

"But it just spoke to me," said Harry. "It said that it doesn't bite."

"That's right, I don't. Well, sometimes. But have you come to get me out of here or what? I'll be your familiar if you do. Honest."

Harry was stunned, speechless. "Um, it says that it wants to get out of here, and if I buy him, he'll promise to become my familiar."

The store worker shrugged. "Look kid, is this some type of joke? "cause its not a good one."

"Tell Johnny over there that either he hands me over to you free of charge or I'll let a certain Sandra know of him going bouncy bouncy in that back closet over there with a certain Shelly."

Harry didn't get scared easily, but having an almost 2000 year old half-snake-half-bird tell you to threaten a store worker is pretty scary, even though Harry didn't much get the euphamism. "Um," said Harry. "He says that if you don't give him to me free of charge, he's going to let Sandra know of you going, um, bouncy bouncy in that back closet with Shelly?"

The store worker's face turned completely white. "No one knows of that," he croaked. "Who told you!"

"I know its really hard to believe, but that cockathingy," said Harry.

"Wait a second. Cockatrices are known to speak the language of snakes. You're a parselmouth!" he gasped.

"Wo wo wo. A parselmouth? But I'm a Potter! There has been no Potter who has spoken parseltonge. Ever!"

"Be that as it may, it all fits. And I don't want Sandra mad at me, so take him. Take him and get out of here."

"Wait, isn't there some instruction manual? No cockatrice food? No chew toy."

"Get! Out!" cried the store worker. The other 7 or so shoppers looked around, confused.

Harry unlocked and opened the cage, much to the store worker's fright. The cockatrice simply crawled out, stretched its wings, and alighted on Harry's shoulder.

"Ah, good to be out," said the cockatrice again. "So, what are we gonna do first?"

"Get out of here?" thought Harry.

"Works for me. But later on I want to become bonded to you."

"You know, I think this has never been done before."

"Nope, it hasn't," said the cockatrice.

Harry, the cockatrice still on his shoulder, came out of the shop. The people who knew what the bird was just stared, open-mouthed, at it.

"Man I love humans," said the cockatrice as they exited. "They're so easy to scare its not even funny."

"I resent that," said Harry.

"Course you would."

"Now, I need a wand. And what's your name, by the way?"

"Vinconex," replied the cockatrice.

"Weird name, but ok," said Harry. He walked down the street towards Olivander's wand shop.

"Wands?" asked the cockatrice. "Newbie!"

"What?"

"You wizards. Can't do magic without your precious wands. Its a wonder why goblins and elves aren't kicking your asses yet."

"Whatever," said Harry. He entered the shop, Vinconex looking around curiously at the many boxes on display. The shop was rather small, with only a small stool as furniture. Thin, neatly wrapped cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling. As the door closed behind him, Harry felt a sense of unease, which turned to shock when an old, grizzeled man popped out of nowhere.

"Ah, Harry Potter," said the man.

"That old guy gives me the creeps," said Vinconex. "And if you knew what I've seen, that's saying something."

"Ah, a cockatrice?" asked Olivander, eyeing the bird curiously. "You are already showing remarkable potential if you have somehow managed to befriend one, let alone have it quietly sit on your shoulder instead of eating you."

"Tell him that he may not look like much, but served over some mango chutney and he'll be a great snack."

Harry repeated what Vinconex said.

"And a parselmouth too? My, my. I cannot wait to see what wand best fits you. Then again... I've never made a wand with cockatrice feathers and scales before. May you ask your friend there if he can allow me to gather a tear, a scale, a feather, and a drop of poison for me?"

Harry repeated the message.

"To make a wand?" asked Vinconex. "Tell him that all that much magic will need a very strong wood. I suggest wood from an elder tree encased with dragon hide, but that'll be a bit pricy."

"I agree with the cockatrice," said Olivander. "But, how bout no matter the results, I'll give you the wand, free of charge. And I'll even throw in a complimentary wrist holster resistant to summoning and disarming."

So it was that Harry found himself in the back of a shop. Vinconex has peeled off a scale from himself, which looked to be pretty painful. He also shook his wings, causing a jet-black feather to fall out. Next, he cried a single tear into a crystal vile. Then, he opened his beak, letting a drop of ebony-black liquid to splash into the vile.

"Perfect!" said Olivander. "I cannot wait." He set about carving a long, hollow tube from a branch of elder. As he carved, he waved his wand over it, muttering phrases in latin under his breath. When the tube was complete, he took the vile and gently filled the thin tube with its contents, making sure that there was an exact mixture of both tear and poison. Then, he inserted the feather which was exactly the same length as the tube. With another piece of wood he carved a handle. Next, he went into a nearby closet that Harry was sure never existed before and came out with several strips of an ebony black material.

"That's basilisk skin!" Vinconex hissed.

'Is that basilisk skin?" Harry asked.

"Yes it is. I only have several pounds left, I'm afraid. Difficult to kill, basilisks." He then muttered a spell, causing a spark to form at the tip of his wand. He concentrated, making it brighter and brighter. The strips of skin began to melt. Finally, when the melting was complete, he extinguished the spark. He looked as if he had ran a marathon.

"Damn that spell takes a lot out of ya," he said, breathing heavily. However, he continued working. He took the pool of black liquid and with a spell, formed it into the exact same shape as the tube. The liquid splashed around it, but Olivander held it still.

"Before I even complete this wand, we need two things," said Olivander. "First, you two must bond as familiars. Next, your blood will coat the wand, making it certain that only you can use it. If the bonding is successful, this wand is right for you. If it's not, then too bad. I'm sure your cockatrice friend knows the drill."

"I do," said Vinconex. "Well then. Hold out your arm, Harry."

Harry did. Vinconex flew from Harry's shoulder and hovered on top of his arm. Then, he gently pricked Harry's arm with his beak, causing a small cut to form. He drank the blood that was trickling out. Next, he ordered Harry to stab him. He produced a feather to do the job. It turns out that cockatrice feathers are razor sharp. Harry gently pricked the leg of Vinconex.

"Drink my blood, though not too much," said Vinconex.

Harry did. Instantly, he and the bird collapsed on the ground, writhing with pain. Harry felt intense surges of magic course through him, changing him, reshaping him. In what seemed like an eternity, the pain stopped. Harry stood up. The cockatrice looked different. Its eyes were no longer golden, but emerald green, the exact color of Harry's eyes. Also, there was a long mark on his plumage, the exact shape of Harry's scar.

"The bonding's complete. Now, your blood, Harry," said Olivander.

Harry noticed that his cut was completely healed, so he pricked himself again with the feather, allowing a few drops of blood to vill the little vile. Harry noticed that the liquid was hardening rapidly. . After about 3 minutes, the liquid skin was completely solid, making his wand thicker than before. Olivander finally took a small cloth out of a drawer and started to rub the blood all over his wand, muttering in latin as he did so. Runes instantly appeared on his wand. Harry knew he saw those runes before, but he couldn't place where. Finally, the work was done.

"Here is your knew wand, Harry Potter. Give it a wave. I'll get the holster and polishing kit for you." He disappeared again.

Harry took the wand by the handle, reverently lifting it up. It was handsome in a deadly sort of way. The runes glowed emerald green, a weird contrast to the ebony black of the basilisk skin. It felt comfortable in his hand. As he raised it, red and gold sparks rocketed out of the wand. A warm feeling traveled up his wand arm to the rest of his body. He smiled. "I have the power!" he cried.

"I have your holster!" cried Olivander, appearing again. He presented Harry with a simple, yet handsome holster. It was nothing fancy, just a set of straps that went around your wrist with adjustment straps. On the underside was a tube that was slightly longer than his wand and half a millimeter thicker. Harry slipped the want into the holster.

"Now," said Olivander. "When you want to get it out, simply flick your wrist upwards."

Harry did. After the fifth attempt, the wand jumped into his hand.

"Good," said Olivander. "The price is zero gallions. Have a nice day!"

"Liking your new wand?" asked Vinconex.

"Lovin' it," said Harry. "I cannot wait to see Sirius's face when he looks at it. And it didn't even cost me a nut."

"Sirius?"

"My godfather, Sirius Black."

"Ah," said Vinconex. "What does he look like?"

"An image of Sirius flashed in his mind."

"Grab on, I'll take you to him. He seems worried."

Harry grabbed on to Vinconex's tail feathers. The passersby stared in shock as, with a burst of black flames, the two vanished, only to reappear in the leaky cauldron.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry grinned. "I could get used to this," he said. "No more flue travel for me!"

The inhabitants were staring at him in shock. Some looked fearfully at Vinconex, who was bobbing his head.

"Well, I expect they want an opening act," said Vinconex. Harry would never understand that bird, for next second, he was on the floor, flamingo dancing and shaking his tail feathers. He then proceeded to fly circles around the bar, do several 180-degree flips, and land on top of Harry's shoulder again.

Sirius just stared, open-mouthed, at Harry. "That's a bloody cockatrice! How on earth did you get a cockatrice!"

"The magical minajury?" replied Harry.

"Harry, do you realize what you have on your shoulder?"

"No?"

"You have as a pet a combination of the most powerful dark and light creatures known to man."

"So I've been told," said Harry.

"Is it your familiar?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Well, guess you can't return it then. Well, I don't know what to tell you. There isn't exactly a book on cockatrice care, seeing as you're the first person who has adopted a cockatrice as their familiar."

"I'll learn?" suggested Harry.

"God please be with me," Sirius prayed.

"And come on. This guy has thousands of years of wisdom and experience. Can I keep him?"

"A-Hem, what was that? I didn't catch that," said Vinconex. "Something about wisdom and experience?"

Harry just glared at him.

"Sure," sighed Sirius. "If he's bonded to you, magical law states that I have to let you keep him. God help my soul," he said as an afterthought.

"Aww come on," said Harry. "Look at 'im! He can flamingo dance for crying out loud! He ain't a bad guy once you get to know him. He even helped me make my wand for me!"

"What's that now?" asked Sirius.

Harry flicked his hand, his elder and cockatrice feather wand jumping into his hand. He noticed that the cockatrice scale was mounted on the top. He grinned up at Sirius. "Didn't cost me a dime!" he said happily.

"Let me see that wand," said Sirius. Harry complied. The residents tried to creep a sneak peak at it.

"Those runes, I've seen them before," Sirius breathed, fingering them almost reverently.

"What are they?" asked Harry.

"Tell you later." He threw the wand in the air and Harry, with the unering skill of a true seeker, caught it easily. He holstered it.

"That wand is going to be ridiculously powerful," said Sirius. "The cores mean you can do the purest of light magic and dark magic so bad even Voldy will be impressed. Plus, is that phoenix tears? You will be able to heal real good with this toy. And that scale? That's a reflector, giving your spells a powerful boost."

"How do you know so much about wands?" asked Harry.

"I don't," said Sirius. "But I am a magical creature geek. Oh yeah. That reminds me." He whipped out his wand and muttered a spell. Harry felt a protective sphere enclose him. Finally, Sirius raised his wand and roared, "Memor nusquam!" A ring of light blasted from the tip of his wand, circling the entire room. Before it could disipate, however, Sirius instructed Harry to go to the manner with Vinconex and Sirius would meet him there.

The three were grouped in the drawing room. "Why'd you make them forget everything that happened?" asked Harry.

"The less the wizarding world knows about you, the better," said Sirius. "Plus, the press coverage would be annoying, and I am sure you wouldn't want "Boy-Who-Lived adopts cockatrice as a familiar" as a front line story, now would you?"

"I guess not," said Harry. Vinconex was lazily flying around the room, taking in everything.

"What's his name, by the way?" asked Sirius.

"Vinconex," said Harry.

"Death's master. How creative," snorted Sirius.

Vinconex turned around to glare at Sirius. "It's true!" he hissed.

Harry repeated what he just hissed.

"You're a parselmouth too?" gasped Sirius. "Damn kid, when do the surprises end."

Harry shrugged. "I don't see what's so dark about it. I think its pretty cool. But how am I a parselmouth? I don't think the Potters were ever parselmouths."

"What about the Evans family?" asked Sirius.

"They're muggles," said Harry.

"Come off it, Harry. What's the most important rule about magic, the fundamental reason for not only that, but for energy and everything that exists."

"Magic cannot be created or destroyed," said Harry.

"Every muggle born person has a magical ancestor. Magic doesn't just pop up out of nowhere."

Harry nodded. "I guess you're right/"

"Which is why I laugh at all the idiot pure-blood supremacist assholes."

"I cannot wait for Hogwarts now. Vinconex will look wicked on my shoulder."

"I get to come with you to Hogwarts?" asked Vinconex?

"Course!"

"I've only heard stories about that place. Ask Sirius if its true that there's a basilisk in there. I'd really like to meet him!"

"Um, is there a basilisk in Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Don't think so," said Sirius.

"Crap. I always wanted to learn how to turn people to stone. I can only kill people by looking at them, which is boring."

"Because turning them to stone isn't?" asked Harry.

"Imagine the sculptures I could make!" protested Vinconex. "Can't do that with flesh now can't you?"

"Never even knew basilisks could do that," said Harry.

"Oh, trust me. They can."

"What are you two talking, erm hissing about?" asked Sirius.

"He thinks that basilisks can turn people into stone."

"Yeah. If the guy looks at its reflection instead of straight at him."

Harry relayed this news to Vinconex.

"Ah well, can't have everything," said Vinconex.

"Now, mind coming to the dining room with me? Needs cleaning up," said Sirius.

Harry followed him to the dining room. He very well remembered the last clean-up of the dining room. He had been chased out by angry doxies, tiny, humanoid, 4 armed little things that could paralyze you with a single sting. Sirius opened the door and ushered Harry inside.

"Surprise!" Remus and Tonks, Harry's surrogat uncle and smoking hot, busty aunt, were there. Harry knew that they were just boyfriend and girlfriend, but that would probably all change in due time.

"Mooney! Nimphadora!" cried Harry, running forward and hugging them both. Tonks icily glared at him with the mention of her much-hated first name. Kingsly Shacklebolt, Sirius's partner in the aurror corps, along with his wife and kids, were also there. Also, there were some people Harry had never seen before.

First, he saw a huge giant of a man who looked somehow familiar. Also, he saw the most stereotypical wizard ever. He had a long, silver beard, half-moon spectacles, and fancy robes adorned with mystic symbols. To his right sat a stern-looking witch wearing square spectacles. She had a rather long nose and blonde hair that was done up in a tight bun on the top of her head.

"Albus! Hagrid! Minni! You made it," said Sirius, grinning at them.

"Wouldn't miss this birthday," said the old wizard.

Harry just looked at them all, confused. "Excuse me, but who are you guys?"

"Ah, forgive me for not introducing myself," said the old wizard. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school."

"Headmaster?" asked Harry.

"And a good one at that," said Sirius.

I'm Professor Minerva McGonagal," said the tall woman. "I will be your transfiguration teacher."

"And I'm rhubeus Hagrid," rumbled the giant. "Keeper of the keys and grunds of Hogwarts. I haven' seen ya since you were a baby, Harry. Sirius has done ya some good! Look at ya. You're a strapping young lad just like your father."

Harry blushed. "You guys knew my parents?" he asked.

"We taught them," said McGonagal. "Your mother was particularly gifted with charms and potions. Your father was more inclined towards defense against the dark arts and transfiguration. They were both very intelligent people, Harry. And it seems some of that has rubbed off on you, eh?"

Harry blushed again.

Their conversation was interrupted by the flapping of wings and Vinconex's untimely arrival.

"Harry! Guess what. I found a dueling room! It has guns and everything! I'll- who're these people?"

Everyone, except Sirius and Harry of course, were staring speechless at the bord hissing at Harry. Some even pulled out there wands threateningly, including Dumbledore.

"Easy! Easy!" said Harry. "You're scaring the poor guy. He just wanted to tell me about a dueling chamber. Sirius, how come you didn't tell me about it?"

"Because I don't want you to blow up the place. But thanks to that ruddy bird that chance has just gone up."

"My dear boy!" exclaimed the headmaster. "You do realize that's-"

"My familiar?" asked Harry.

The occupants were gobsmacked, but Harry noticed that Hagrid was looking at him with reverence with borderline worship in his eyes.

"You have a cockatrice as your familiar?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yeah," said Harry. "He's my feathered friend scaly friend."

"Simply amazing," said Dumbledore. "But, why are we standing around. We have a birthday to celebrate!"

Then the party began. Vinconex was treating everyone to really good dance moves. Not cool? How about dance moves with the dancer being wreathed in a halo of jet-black flames.

"Showoff," hissed Harry.

Next came the food. Kingsley's wife was a really good cook. Boiled potatos, steak, fries, and all other kinds of goodies were served. The cake was a culinary monstrosity. It was about 3-4 feet tall, occupying almost the entire half of the Black manner's dining room table.

After a chorus of Happy Birthday, they greedily dug in. Harry ate slice after slice with gusto. His grin further widened at the sight of a modest pile of presents in the corner.

"Can I open my presents now?" asked Harry, looking at Sirius with puppydog eyes.

Sirius nodded. "Sure."

First, Harry picked up a long, thin package from Sirius. He unwrapped it. Shinying proudly was the best broom money can buy, the Nimbus 2000. Harry stared.

"Thanks, Padfoot!" he stammered, reverently gazing at the magnificent broom.

Sirius grinned. "Kick some Slytherin arse for me at Quidditch. That's how you can thank me."

Harry laughed.

AN: First years are allowed their own brooms, if you actually weren't bright enough to realize that by now.

Next, Harry saw a very thin package from Dumbledore. He unwrapped it and a note fell out. In thin, loopy, elegant handwriting it read:

This belonged to your father. It is time it has been returned to its rightful owner. Use it well.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry wasn't exactly sure what the present was. It looked like a really thin, gosamer cloak. He stood up and put it on. Sirius gasped.

"That's James's invisibility cloak!" Sirius gasped. "How, how'd you get it!"

"James trusted it with me," said Dumbledore. "He wanted me to give it to Harry on his eleventh birthday. I believe his exact phrasing was, "He shall be a troublemaker just like his father!""

"If only James knew how right he was," said Sirius.

Vinconex flew inside, then eyeing the presents, he flew towards them. "I gather this is your birthday?" he said in his mind.

"Yep," said Harry.

He looked at all the presents. He flicked his beak towards one.

Harry grabbed it and opened it. The parcel felt rather small. It revealed a simple mirror.

"Thanks again, Sirius?" Harry said, looking questionably at him.

"That's a two-way mirror," said Sirius. "Need me for anything, just say Sirius Black into the glass, and you'll be able to see me and talk to me."

"Thanks," said Harry.

Hagrid gave Harry a wallet, containing a magical credit card that would key to Harry's vault. He could use it in the magical and muggle worlds. Also, it contained slots for bills and even a bag for gold. The most remarkable feathre was that it would try to attack anyone who touched it except Harry.

"This is going to come in handy," said Harry. He picked up the wallet, feeling a small prick in his hand. He lifted it. A small smear of blood was on it. The wallet glowed red for a moment before returning to normal. Harry opened it and took out the credit card, which was completely and utterly blank. Again, he felt a small prick on the hand that touched the card. Instantly, numbers appeared on both sides of the card, much like a muggle credit card. Harry placed it back in the wallet.

Harry smiled as he picked up the presents from McGonagal. It were several books, all of them on advanced defense and gray-area spells.

The party finally came to an end, everyone leaving. Harry, Sirius and Vinconex were in the drawing room, cleaning up the wrapped paper and thrwoing them into the trash bin. Kreature, the house elf, insisted on helping them, but Sirius refused. After that was done, they retired to their sleeping quarters, Vinconex sleeping in Harry's room on a large, golden perch Sirius had bought him.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

disclaimer: forgot to add one in the last few or so chapters. Well, here goes. I hereby claim complete ownership of this fanfic and any other subsidiary bla bla bla bla bla except for Harry Potter and any associated characters and bla bla bla. fuck this! story time!

Harry woke up the next morning. He blinked his eyes and gasped. His eyesight had always been aweful, but now he could see everything completely and utterly clear. He could clearly make out the banister leading downstairs, and the fingersmudges on it from constant usage. It was safe to say he didn't need his glasses anymore. He stood up and stretched.

"Damn, I'm hungry." he thought, imagining the kitchen. Then, he felt a tingling run throughout his whole body. In a flash of fire, he appeared in the kitchen. "Wicked!" he cried.

He imagined his room and, with a sudden rush of fire, he was there. He could get used to this. Vinconex woke up, looking around the room and spotting Harry.

"So, your powers have come in I see?" asked Vinconex.

"Yep," said Harry. "I always wondered, did you get anything?"

Vinconex flew off his purch and contimplated. "Nope," he said. "But I feel as if I cannot be killed."

"You can't," said Harry.

"I know that, but I feel shielded somehow," said Vinconex.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I am hungry. What do cockatrices like for breakfast?"

"I'll go hunting," said Vinconex. "This one forest has loads of tasty treats. Be back in a few." With a flash of flame, he was gone.

Sirius wasn't at all surprised at Harry's new powers and enhanced eyesight.

"That's common among masters and familiars," he explained.

Apart from that, the rest of the month was rather uneventful. Sirius forbade Harry from even thinking about the dueling chamber, much to Harry's and Vinconex's displeasure. The anticipation was killing him, though, so when September first finally arrived, Harry was up at 5:30, dressed, showered, and ready to go. Vinconex was perfectly clean and well-fed. He absolutely refused to be put into a cage, so he was sitting on the back of Sirius's toyota forrunner.

"Wasn't this a mercedes last time?" asked Harry.

"This baby's a lot of things," said Sirius. "It cost me a fortune designing this thing. It can be a flying harly, a modern tank, a b52 stealthbomber, an f16 fighter plane, a capital ship and a luxury yacht."

"Jesus!" cried Harry. "How much money did this cost you?"

"Think it was a million and a quarter gallions."

The car rode on for about 3 hours before reaching King's Cross station. Sirius climbed out the car, Harry following him, with Vinconex purched on his shoulder. Sirius hauled Harry's trunk out the back of the car and, making sure no muggles were looking, cast a feather-weight charm on it. He carried it and placed it on a cart.

"Where's the platform?" asked Harry. "I don't see it on here."

"Course you wouldn't," said Sirius. "Just walk straight through that barrier between 9 and 10."

Harry did. When he was through, the barrier was a large archway with a sign reading: Platform 9 and 3 quarters. Hogwarts Express Departure time: 11:00 AM

Harry gasped as he beheld a huge, scarlet steam engine sitting there, students climbing aboard it. Some glanced fearfully at Vinconex. Sirius walked through the archway.

"Ah, I wish I was going with ya," he said whistfully, gazing longingly at the train.

Harry grinned. "I'll send you postcards!"

Sirius nodded. He looked at Harry, and for the first time ever, Harry saw worry cross his face. "You take care of yourself, alright Harry?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "I will, Padfoot."

""And one more thing," said Sirius. "No matter where you are, keep that mirror handy. Do not, under any circumstances forget it."

Harry nodded. He knew he couldn't. He tried leaving the room without it once and there was a strong itch in his mind that didn't go away until he picked the mirror up and put it in his pocket. "Don't worry," said Harry.

After Harry shaking Sirius's hand warmly, he waved him goodbye and stepped onto the train. He saw a group of redheaded children waving goodbye to a plump woman who smiled at them.

He finally found an empty compartment and sat down. He took "Frowned upon but Legal ways to kick ass" out of his trunk and started reading, Vinconex reading along with him.

"Oo I'm going to like this spell," said Harry, tapping his finger on a particular line

Flames of rage

spell: Incerinada Saevio

wand movements: clockwise circle then jab at target

description: This spell can only be cast if the caster has the right amount of righteous or pure anger or hatred for the target. It will transform his or her anger into a ripple of fire that will burn the target. The wounds caused by this spell cannot be cured.

Harry grinned. "Oo. Blade of fire. I'll like this one."

spell: vesica incendia

wand movement: diagonal slash towards the target followed by a forward jab.

description: This spell will unleash a torrent of flames shaped like the blade of a sword. It will not only cut or pierce the victim, but burn any surrounding skin or tissue. This spell cannot be blocked by the protego shield.

The door opened, revealing a familiar redhead.

"Room in here? Everywhere else is full. Holy shit! Is that a cockatrice?"

Ron tentatively approached it. Harry looked up from his book and smiled at Ron. "Hey Ron," he said.

"Blimy Harry!" gasped Ron. "I never knew you had a pet cockatrice!"

"Long story," said Harry. "He's really cool though. He doesn't bite."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, sitting down beside Harry. "Nice book." He glanced at the page of spells Harry was reading.

"Damn, if only this place had a dueling tournament," said Harry, flipping a page. "Wicked! There's a spell that will make a ball of ice rip through something."

"What's the spell?" asked Ron.

"glacialis bovis," said Harry. "I got to try this one out." He stood up, unholstering his wand.

"Nice wrist holster," said Ron.

Harry concentrated, pointing his wand at a train window. "Hopefully I can repair it afterwords. glacialis bovis!" The effect was instantanious. A ball of crystalene ice blasted out the tip of his wand, ripping through the window and leaving a hole about the size of a gaulfball in its wake.

"Wicked!" said Ron. "And on your first try too!"

"Reparo," Harry muttered, fixing the glass.

The door opened to reveal a short girl with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. "Have you seen a toad? Nevil's lost one."

"No," said Harry. Her voice annoyed him. It sounded so bossy it sickened him.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" she said, eyeing Harry's wand. "And I like that bird. What kind is it?"

"Cockatrice. And yeah, I was doing magic," said Harry.

"Let's see then. I've tried a few spells myself, and they've all worked for me."

Harry knew where this was going. She was a know-it-all who was used to being top of everything. With a sigh, he raised his wand. "Glacialis bovis!" Another ball of crystalene ice blasted through the window.

"What's that supposed to do," asked the girl. "Break windows?"

"It's an ice bullet spell," said Harry. "Its supposed to break people."

"Oh you boys, always thinking about violence." She huffed, turned her back on them, and walked out.

"I hate her," declared Harry instantly.

"Did you notice how pissed she was when you cast that spell? Jealous, I think," remarked Ron.

"My godfather's friend's daughter is like that. She reminds me so much of that girl its not even funny."

"Well, who cares. The point is she'll hopefully never come back."

"Amen," said Harry. He finally closed the book and put it back in his trunk.

"Want anything to eat?" asked Harry. "I'm hungry."

"I got sandwiches," said Ron. "Thanks anyway."

Harry walked out the compartment door, not before hearing Ron groan, "Ah! How many times did I tell you mom, I hate corned beef!"

He finally found the dining car. The foods in there were not muggle in the slightest. There were fizzing whisbies, drooble's best blowing gum, butter beers, cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and berty bott's every-flavored beans, among other things. He took about two pounds of everything and carried it back to his trunk.

"I come with food!" Harry declared, plopping the bag containing the treats onto an empty seat. Vinconex eyed it hungrily.

"Can I have one of those frogs?" asked Vinconex.

Harry reached in and found a chocolate frog. He unwrapped it and, at Vinconex's request, placed it on the ground. For the next 15 seconds, the frog hopped around the room, avoiding Vinconex, until, with a clever swoop, Vinconex speared it with his beak and gobbled it up.

"Damn! You have a sweet tooth don't ya?" asked Ron.

"Nah," said Harry. "But my godfather, Sirius is an anti-junk food fanatic. He'll only allow me to eat this stuff once every year or so. I need candy! Oo, can I have a sandwich? I'll trade you some frogs."

"You can have 'em all free of charge," said Ron. "I hate them." Harry took the package and wolfed down its contents.

The train ride was spent eating Harry's treasure trove of goodies. Vinconex occasionally wolfed down a frog but that was it.

"Well, lads, I'm tired. Think I'll curl up under this seat," declared Vinconex, promptly crawling under Harry's seat and tucking his head under his wing.

A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal a quartet of kids. The leader appeared to be a tall boy with blond hair and a pointed face. His cronies, two boys and a girl, were all big, ,ugly, muscle-bound, and probably stupid.

"Well well well," said Malfoy. "I heard Harry Potter was on this train, but I didn't believe them. Guess I was wrong." He stepped inside, closely followed by his cronies.

"Sup," said Harry, lazily biting the head off a chocolate frog. He took a frog and offered it to Malfoy. "Want one?"

Malfoy shook his head. "Poor Potter. Look at your company. Did you know the Weasleys are the biggest bunch of blood traitors in the UK?"

"And did you know the Malfoys were the stupidest bunch of inbreds in the UK?" Harry retorted.

Ron laughed. "There's also the small matter of his daddy licking the hem of You-Know-Who's robes."

"You watch your mouth," said Malfoy in a cold, icy tone. "That talk will eventually make you meet the same end as your muggle-loving parents."

At once, Harry got to his feet. His wand was in his hand, and ways to torture Malfoy were on his mind. Then, he remembered a lesson from Sirius.

"Under no circumstances should you unleash your anger. Channel it! Never unleash it!"

Harry took deep breaths and finally sat down.

"Scared, Potter?" asked Malfoy, drawing his own wand. "Fancy holster by the way. Didn't see it."

"He's got more balls than your whole family put together, inbred!" spat Ron.

"Then let him prove it, Weasley, Incendio!"

Harry barely had time to block the curse sent at him. Luckily, he remembered the charm. "Protego!" A shield sprung from the tip of his wand, repelling the flames. "You wanna fuck with me?" hissed Harry. "Incarcerus!" Ropes sprang around Malfoy, who quickly burned them before they could wrap around him.

"Petrificus Totalus!" The full body bind crashed against the wall.

"Body bind? Really?" asked Harry. "Stupify!" A red jet of light missed Malfoy by millimeters.

"Fuck this," he said. "Crabbe! Goyle! Bullstrode! Get 'em!"

"With pleasure," the three chorused.

The three huge cronies charged forward, fists raised. Harry laughed. Maybe magical combat wasn't his forte yet, but Sirius had prepared him for good-old-fashioned muggle combat.

Harry uttered a battle cry and charged forward. He savagely palm striked Ugly number 1, sending him toppling backwards, blood splashing out his nose. Ugly number two swung a fist at him. Harry seized his arm and with the heal of his hand, hit the elbow joint. An audible crack was heard, and next second, Ugly Number two clutched his arm uselessly.

Sirius was watching all this with anger mixed with pride.

"Want more, inbred pussies?" shouted Harry.

Ugly Numbers 1 and 3 charged forward, hatred clearly written on their faces. Harry just laughed as he ducked and got under a punch. In quick succession he hit Ugly Number one's head with a mean left hook and jabbed Ugly Number 3 in the jaw. He also gave Ugly Number 2 a snap front kick in the stomach for good measure.

harry smiled at the three prone figures on the floor. "You don't want to meet the same end as Voldemort? Don't! Fuck! With! Me!" With a few banishing charms, he tossed Malfoy and Ugly Numbers 1 to 3 out the door, slamming it shut.

"That's my boy!" Sirius cried, jumping up and down.

Ron just stared at him, gobsmacked. "Wicked!" he exclaimed.

"What's all the ruckus about," said Vinconex sleepily, crawling out from under Harry's seat. "I smell blood. The hell happened?"

"Four inbreds decided to pick a fight with me." said Harry. "The blood you're smelling is theirs."

"Maybe there is still hope for you," remarked Vinconex. "Now, don't wake me up again!" He crawled back under Harry's seat and started to sleep again.

Harry noticed that if he smelled, he could detect the coppery scent of blood. A few cleaning charms around the compartment took care of it. He turned to Ron. "I always thought a blood traitor was a pure-blood who married a muggle?" asked Harry.

Ron shook his head. "My parents are both pure-bloods. It basically means that you would associate, make friends with, and marry a muggle. You're not prejudiced towards them."

"Ah," said Harry. "Then I'm a blood traitor."

"Me too," said Ron. "And proud of it!"

The train finally came to a complete stop. The two, after changing into their Hogwarts robes, stepped out the train, Vinconex taking his usual spot on Harry's shoulder. A small sphere of light bobbed in the distance, becoming larger and larger. Then, Harry saw a familiar shape. Hagrid was wearing a full suit of what looked like dragon-hide armor. His beard and hair was neatly gromed, and his boots looked to be made of the same material, but by the way Hagrid walked, Harry guessed them to be furr-lined. All in all, he looked like a mountain man in full.

"Firs' years!" he bellowed. "Firs' years follow me!" The troop of first years followed Hagrid down a gravel, tree-lined path. The trees made the twilight sky look pitch dark. Finally, the path ended, and it revealed a huge, yawning lake. The water was crystal clear, and overall, the lake looked beautiful. A fleet of little boats waited patiently on the bank of the lake.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid said, clambering into a boat that was slightly larger than all the others. When everyone was inside a boat, he shouted, "On to Hogwarts!"

The fleet of boats moved forward by themselves. Harry, Ron, and a round-faced boy clutching a toad were in the boat.

"What's your name?" Harry asked the boy.

"Neville," said Neville. "Neville Longbottom."

"Blimy! You're the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom?" asked Ron, looking at him.

"Yeah, how'd you know their names?" asked Neville. His expression turned to one of deep sorrow.

"My parents knew them," said Ron. "Said they were some of the most brilliant aurrors they've ever seen."

Neville nodded. "Yeah, they were," he muttered.

"Oh, sorry," said Ron, clearly noticing he was going to a bad subject.

"S'okay," said Neville. "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley," said Ron.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Vinconex!" hissed Vinconex.

Neville, like all the others, had been shocked to see that bird, but after reassuring him, he, like all the others, had come to like him.

"Duck!" cried Hagrid. "You'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts soon."

All of them ducked to avoid an ivy colored tunnel of rock. Finally, when the got out of it, everyone gasped at what stretched before them. Purched atop a cliff, its windows sparkling in the moonlight, stood a magnificent castle with many turrets and towers. Finally, the boats reached the opposite shore of the bank and got off. They walked towards the front steps and crowded around the huge, oak double doors. Hagrid knocked on it three times.

The door opened to reveal Professor McGonagal. "Thank you Hagrid. I will take care of them from here."

"You're welcome, Minerva." said Hagrid. With one last wave goodbye, he walked off into the distance.

"Follow me, everyone," said McGonagal. All of them followed her into a large entrance wall, its walls adorned with paintings, some of them greeting the passersby.

'Blimy, this place is amazing!" whispered Ron to Harry.

There were another set of oak double doors, but they didn't go there. Instead McGonagal lead them to a side chamber.

When all of them were inside, McGonagal cleared her throat. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry. I am Professor Minerva McGonagal, head of Gryfindor house, transfiguration professor and deputy headmistress. Now, in a few minutes, you will be all sorted into your houses. Your house is like your family. You will all sleep in house dormitories with your fellow housemates of the same year. You will all have common rooms in which to relax, study and work in. Also, any triumphs shall be rewarded with house points. Fail to abide by Hogwarts rules and you will lose points. The house with the most points shall receive the house cup. The houses are as follows: Gryfindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its noble history, and each house has produced outstanding witches and wizards."

Finally, the sorting began. The group of first years filed into the great hall. It was great, alright. It could easily fit a two story building in it and have room to spare. Four long tables sat on the four sides of the room. In the middle stood a high table, with elegant comfy chairs surrounding it, along with a golden armchair, its occupant being Albus Dumbledore himself.

Everyone instantly hushed. Some stared at Vinconex, still purched on Harry's shoulder.

"Fillious, the hat please?" A three-legged stool was brought out of a side chamber by a tiny man. The stool was placed near the center. On top of it sat a raggedy-looking hat.

"That's all?" hissed Ron. "I'm gonna kill Fred and George. They said you had to wrestle a troll to get in."

"And you believed that?" Harry whispered.

"Shut up," muttered Ron.

The hat's brim ripped open into the likeness of a mouth and it started to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

There was a polite round of applause.

"Now," said McGonagal. "When I call your names, you will go up to the stool and put on the hat. Whichever name the hat shouts out shall be your house. Abbet, Hannah!"

A rather large girl with pigtails ran up to the hat.

"Hufflepuff!" it bellowed.

"Ackerly, Steward!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The hat continued like this, shouting out names. For some, like "Malfoy! Draco!", the hat barely touched their heads before announcing their house. Others, like "Longbottom! Neville!", took a while before announcing their house.

Finally, McGonagal cried, "Potter! Harry!"

Whispers followed Harry all the way to the stool. He even thought he heard someone hiss, "Probably a no-good Gryfindor like his mummy and daddy." Harry made sure to flip him off when McGonagal wasn't looking. He took the hat and put it on.

"Ah, this one's easy. Gryfindor!" the hat bellowed.

The response was enormous. Every single Gryfindor stood up, cheering loudly with all the rest, chanting "We! got! Potter! We! got! Potter!" Harry even caught sight of McGonagal's eyes filling with pride, and Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling like crazy. He grinned as he made his way over to the Gryfindor table. Vinconex trilled as he walked. It was the first time Harry had ever heard Vinconex sound, well, birdy.

"Nice one going into the lion's den," said Vinconex.

"Thanks," said Harry. He sat down and, when the cheers from the Gryfindors died down, the sorting continued. Luckily, the girl on the train, whose name was "Granger! Hermione!", was sorted into Ravenclaw. Finally, after "Weasley! Ronald!" was sorted into Gryfindor, the sorting was finished.

Dumbledore finally stood up, sending off a bang like fireworks to silence everyone. "Welcome one and all," he said, sweeping his arms out wide, "to another year of Hogwarts. Now, before you all are befuddled by our excellent feast, I would like to bore you with some start-of-term notices." There were a smattering of chuckles at this. "First, our caretaker, Argus Filch, has posted a list of banned items on the door of his office. Second, the forbidden forest is, as its name implies, forbidden. Remember that well, Fred and George Weasley. Third, I would like to announce our new defense against the dark arts professor, Quarinius Quirrell." A man wearing a large purple turban on the back of his head smiled nervously. "Finally, the third floor corridor is absolutely off-limits to anyone who doesn't wish to meet their maker a bit earlier than they anticipated. Now, on that happy note, tuck in!"

The golden plates that were previously sparkling clean filled to the brim with every single type of food Harry could think of. There was everything from chicken to steak to fries, burgers, pork chops and lamb chops, meat loaf, rice, fish filets, tacos, burritos, and even pizza. Harry greedily scooped up as much as he could on to his plate.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, by the way," said a tall, red-headed boy. Harry noticed that on his robes was a shiny blue badge labeled with the letter P.

"What does that badge mean?" asked Harry looking at it.

"That's a prefect's badge," said the boy. "My name is Percy Weasley, by the way. Ron, chew with your mouth closed for once!"

Ron blushed. The feast was as excellent as Dumbledore said. Harry finally was full to the brim. Soon though, all the remaining food was gone, leaving the plates sparkling again. The food was replaced by desserts. Treacle tart, ice cream, coconut cream pies, and pudding were just a few of the many kinds of desserts. Harry's full stomach magically emptied itself, and he happily scooped up as much fat-laden junk food as he possibly could.

Then, he clapped a hand to his mouth as translucent shapes drifted in through the walls.

"Ghosts," an older student explained.

A tall ghost drifted towards their table. He sat in mid air, cross-legged, looking hungrily at the magnificent feast before him. "Ah, new arrivals!" he said. "Sir Nicholas Domimzy Porpington, Gryfindor Ghost, at your service."

"Wait," said Ron. "I've heard of you! Your'e Nearly Headless Nick!"

"How can somebody be nearly headless?" asked a a tall blackboy sitting down the table.

Nearly Headless Nick sighed. "Like this." He grabbed his ear, and with a squelching sound, removed his head from his body almost completely. Only a few strands of translucent sinue and tendon kept his head from completely separating from his body.

"Wicked!" said Harry.

"Not as "wicked" as you think," said Nearly Headless Nick.

When his stomach was full again, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"I hope you have enjoyed thhis feast," he said. "Now, I bid you goodnight on a full stomach. First years, please follow your prefects to your common rooms."

As Harry stood up to follow Percy, McGonagal came upto him.

"The headmaster would like to see you, Potter, Weasley."

"Me?" asked Ron.

"Yes, you. Follow me."

The two, much to their confusion and the confusion of everyone else, got up. Vinconex looked questioningly at McGonagal.

"They followed her to the Slytherin table, where she told Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode to follow her as well. Harry and Ron shot death glares at the slytherin quartet. The troop of six followed her out of the great hall. They wandered down hallways, up staircases that shifted positions, and finally, to an impressive stone gargoyle.

"Lemon drops," said McGonagal curtly. The gargoyle moved aside. They were lead up a spiral escalator that lead to a small landing. She knocked three times on a knocker shaped like a griffon.

"Come in," came a voice from inside.

She opened the door. The six were ushered inside. The office was simply amazing. Portraits hung on the walls, all of them depicting men and women sleeping. Strange little instruments stood in neat little rows on the headmaster's desk, which was made of polished mahogany. Two people were already in there: Dumbledore and a tall, sallo-skinned man Harry had never seen before. He turned his face and looked at Harry. Instantly, Harry and Vinconex cried out in pain, Harry clapping a hand to his scar.

"Is something the matter?" said McGonagal.

"Nothing," Harry lied.

"I have received troubling reports of you attacking some of my students," said the man coldly.

Malfoy and the slytherin quartet nodded.

"They attacked him first!" shouted Ron.

"Silence!" shouted McGonagal. "Now, I would first like to say that none of you are in trouble as of yet. However, if Ron Weasley's outburst is true, then these four boys will be given detention. If it is not, you, Harry Potter, will be given a week's worth of detention for assaulting students and causing physical injury. And like I said, the same goes to these six here if Weasley's story checks out."

"Can you please tell me what happened?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry recounted him and Ron talking, then Malfoy coming in. He told him of Malfoy firing the first curse, how Harry blocked it, and how a fight began. He told him of how malfoy sent his cronies at him.

"And, Draco," said Dumbledore. "What is your side of the story?"

"Well," said Malfoy. "I heard that Harry Potter was on the train. So, naturally, I wanted to meet him. I went to his compartment to extend my welcome, and he called me some rather unpleasant names. I believe one of them was inbred pussy. He launched a stunner and binding spell at me, so I naturally called for help. He viciously attacked them, breaking the arm of Crabbe, hitting Bulstrode in the nose and hitting her in the head. He also punched Goyle in the jaw. As if that weren't enough, he kicked Crabbe while he was down."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Harry, please step forward. Please recall for me, in as much detail as possible, the memory of the encounter from start to finish." Harry did so. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and pressed it to Harry's temple.

"Do you have it clear in your mind?" said Dumbledore.

Harry nodded. Dumbledore then pressed the wand deeper into his temple, then pulled it out. A long strand of gosamer material clung to the tip. "This is a memory," Dumbledore explained. With a wave of his hand he summoned a shallow stone basin. Runic symbols were carved into the stone. He placed the memory in the basin, stirring it and swirling it. He muttered a spell, and, as if on TV, the whole visit was replayed in stunning audio quality too.

"It seems that Mr. Weasley's outburst is true," said Dumbledore. "Draco did instegate the fight. And, by the looks of it, Harry was merely defending himself. Of course, the kick to the stomach was uncalled for. Twenty points from Gryfindor for excessive violence. And you four. I shall assign you all detention with Mr. Filch. I believe he needs help cleaning up the dungions. Also, I shall remove 10 points from slytherin from the each of you for picking a fight with a fellow student."

There was much protesting from this. "Albus!" said the man. "Harry could've seriously injured them. Do you honestly think he should get away with that? By the looks of it, he's a menace!"

"Harry was merely defending himself," said Dumbledore firmly. "Had it been the other way around, Harry would be the one getting detention. Now, I bid you all goodnight."

McGonagal escorted Harry and Ron to the Gryfindor common room.

The entrance turned out to be a portrait of a very fat woman wearing a frilly dress. "Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconus," said McGonagal. The portrait swung open. After waving McGonagal goodnight, the three of them went upstairs.

"Well," said Vinconex. "I think I will go exploring. Catch ya in the morning." With a flash of flame, he was gone. Harry, not in the mood for exploring, promptly went up to their dormitory and crawled into bed, as did Ron.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

At breakfast, Harry was living proof that at Hogwarts, secrets do not exist. The primary topic of conversation was either the boy-who-lived giving the evil Slytherins a well-deserved beating, the boy-who-lived defending Ron Weasley from a vicious Slytherin attack, or the boy-who-lived's unprovoked attack on the Slytherins being proof that he is a menace to society and should be expelled from this school. Either way, Harry hated it.

"I really hate Malfoy now," muttered Harry.

"Cheer up, mate," said Ron. "At least people will think twice before getting on your bad side."

"I guess," said Harry. "Oh boy. Her." Striding purposefully towards their table was Hermione herself.

"How. Could. You," she said, emphasizing each word with a poke in Harry's direction. "You could've seriously hurt him! He was only—"

"Trying to attack me?" Harry said, annoyed. "I was defending myself."

"Still, you really shouldn't go all out on him. He's just a kid! I read on cases of violence like this. You could become insane! Maybe you already are!"

"Look. Don't worry, alright? I checked out of my mental hospital a year ago. And I don't have to see my therapist anymore, so there's nothing to worry about."

The people who heard him burst out laughing. Hermione, huffing indignantly, marched off.

"She's so stupid!" said Harry. "Did you hear that? "You could be insane!". Ridiculous!"

"I hear ya mate. Oh look, schedules are here."

Harry took his schedule from McGonagal and looked over it.

Monday

7:30-8:50: Breakfast

9:00-10:30 AM: Defense against the Dark Arts with Slytherin House

10:40-12:10: Potions with Slytherin House

12:20-1:40: Transfiguration with Ravenclaw House

1:50-3:20: Lunch

3:30-4:50: herbology with Hufflepuff house

5:00-6:20: Dinner

"Ugh. First two classes with ruddy slytherins," complained Ron.

"Hey. If there's practical work in DADA I'd love Slytherins to be in my class. Could use the target practice," said Harry.

Ron laughed. "Damn. It's 8:45 and I have no idea where to go. Do you?"

"We'll learn?" suggested Harry.

"Oy Percy!" called Ron. "Where's the DADA classroom?"

"Up the marble staircase, take a left down the corridor, second door on your right."

;;;;"Thanks. Let's go."

Now, here are some words of profound wisdom: When a mischievous little poltergeist by the name of Peeves steals your top hat, it isn't a good idea to run up a marble staircase containing a trick step in which your foot gets accidentally caught in. That, my friend, will most likely get your foot caught in that said trick step with no means of getting it out. Learn from Ron, who is currently madly shaking his foot trying to get it out.

"Blimy, how the bloody hell do you get out of this thing!" he shouted.

"Hell if I know," said Harry, covering his mouth with both of his hands to stifle the giggles that he was trying and failing to suppress. Then, a passage from a book came to his head. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron's foot. "Relashio!" Ron's foot was mercifully released from the trick step. The two went up the rest of the way without anything or anyone impeding them. They finally arrived at a nondescript classroom. The man with the purple turban, Professor Quirrelle, stood nervously in the front. After everyone had filed in, he cleared his throat.

"W-w-welcome," he stammered. "To d-d-defense against the d-d-d-dark arts."

"What up with him?" whispered Harry.

"Dunno mate," said Ron. "Heard he wasn't always like that. Apparently, story is he wanted to do a bit of travelin', ran into a vicious pack of vampires, barely escaped with his life. Hasn't been the same ever since."

"That's weird," said Harry. "Vampires don't travel in packs."

"That's the story," said Ron.

The class in itself was a complete and utter joke. There was absolutely no practical work, the man couldn't teach to save his life, and the book, defensive magical theory, was the most boring, poorly written book Harry had ever read. He would've rather read a dictionary from top to bottom. Sirius had made him do that once after he Stoll Sirius's shotgun. Finally, the class was mercifully over.

"Well," said Ron. "There wasn't any practical work."

Harry nodded. "Oh boy. Potions are next."

"Heard the teacher's horrible."

The two went down to the dungeons where the potions classroom was apparently located. The first years of Gryfindor and Slytherin filed in. Malfoy shot Harry death glares. It took every ounce of Harry's self-control not to kill him. Ron and Harry finally found seats and sat down.

The tall, hook-nosed, greasy-haired teacher Harry had seen yesterday in Dumbledore's office strode into the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. He stood to the front and raised his hand for silence. At once, the entire class quieted.

"Welcome," said the professor. "I am Professor Severus Snape, the potions master of this school. Let me tell you that there will not be any silly wand waving in this classroom. Many of you might not appreciate the noble art and settle science that is potion making. If, however, you do possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death, unless you are just the usual bunch of dimwitted dunderheads I usually have to teach. Now, I will begin roll call." After announcing names, he finally stopped at, "Ah, Harry Potter." He said "Potter" with chilling venom in his voice. "Our new… celebrity. Well then, let's see if your so-called fame is well-deserved. Tell me Potter, what do you get if you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Draught of living death, sir?" he replied.

"Well, well. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezor and for what purpose would it be?"

"You would look in a goat's stomach, sir. It helps with most poisons."

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfs bane?"'

"Nothing, sir," said Harry.

"Well well, well. Living up to your fame, I see? Thirty points from Gryfindor for your arrogance."

Harry was absolutely livid. "I answered your questions right," he said, his anger bubbling.

"Silence!" Snape roared.

"No. I answered all your questions right. I know I did. I read A thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi before coming to Hogwarts."

"Another 20 points for talking back to a teacher, and I think I shall assign you detention. The bedpans in the hospital wing do need to be scrubbed. Talk out of line again and I will double the deal!"

Harry didn't "talk out of line" again for the remainder of the class, but images of Snape being strung up to two fighter planes and being swiftly yanked apart ran rampant in his mind." He almost admired his self-control, for he did not say a word when Snape took 10 points from Gryfindor because his potion was too blue. The potion was a simple cleaning solution and it was supposed to turn blue. Nor did he bat an eye when Neville's cauldron exploded and he was reprimanded for not informing Neville that adding essence of belladonna before stirring would cause the resulting mixture to explode. Nor did he even flinch when Snape deducted another 10 points from Gryfindor for slicing his scarab wings too hard. Nor did he say a word when Snape "accidentally" vanished the next solution Harry was supposed to work on and told him to do it all over again.

When they left class, however, self-control went out the window. "I want to fucking kill him!" Harry said. "30 points for being arrogant? Really?"

"Look, mate. He's that way too all the Gryfindors."

"No, Ron. I think the guy hates me. I mean, really hates me. Did you hear the way he announced my name? You'd think I killed his wife or something. Jesus!"

Ron shrugged. "Well, tough as it is, there's really nothing you can do. Just going to have to learn real good self-control."

"I don't feel like it," Harry muttered.

Good news: the next class was Transfiguration with McGonagal. Bad news: Hermione Granger was in it. "Can this day get any worse?" muttered Harry. Oh, why oh why did he say that.

"Welcome to transfiguration," said McGonagal. "This is perhaps one of the most difficult branches of magic you will be taught. It requires discipline and mental focus. For this reason, we will start small. Now, I will be assigning you partners. Your job is to transfigure your match into a needle. The groups are: Ron and Terry, Neville and Padma, Seamus and Anthony, Harry and Hermione…"

The rest Harry did not hear. This was not a happy day. Hermione came over to him, flopped down on the chair beside him, and promptly pulled out her wand.

"Think you're sooo brilliant just because of one little display yesterday."

Harry chose to ignore her, remembering that no matter how horrible that girl was, she was still a girl. He pulled out his wand and was determined to beat her the only way he could. The matchstick in front of him turned into a silvery needle. It was perfectly metallic, no wood to be seen. Unfortunately, Hermione achieved the exact same results.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. Fifteen points to Gryfindor and Ravenclaw." The pair looked absolutely livid.

"One of these days, Granger," Harry hissed.

Finally, it was the next best time of any school day: lunchtime. Harry proceeded to inhale plate after plate of succulent roast pork, mashed potatoes, and steaming hot French onion soup. Neville was sitting next to him, along with Ron.

"So how'd you find out you were a wizard?" asked Ron.

"I, uh, was a bit of a late bloomer," said Neville, blushing. "When I was eight, my great Uncle Algae decided to chuck me out of the upstairs window. I would've died, but luckily, my magic finally came out and I started bouncing along our driveway."

"That's harsh," said Harry.

"Nah, he would've levitated me if I came down too far. But I was then dubbed the name "incredible bouncing boy"."

"I was about six," said Ron. "My brothers, Fred and George had stolen my teddy bear. I was so angry. They had taken their toy broomstick and started beating the bear with it. I finally got mad and the broomsticks just snapped."

"Awww, wee wittle won wid his teddy bear," Harry mocked.

"I was six! And how'd yours come about?"

"I was running with Sirius. Sirius kept on making fun of me, saying how I could never beat him. Then, there was this white flash and I was standing about ten feet in front of Sirius."

Ron and Neville gawked at him. "You apparated when you were a kid?"

"I wouldn't call it apparating. More of instant transmission."

The rest of the day was uneventful, to say the least. Nor were the other days. Charms with the Ravenclaws proved to be fun since they were allowed to pick their partners. History of Magic was the most boring subject in the history of boring subjects. Their teacher, Professor Bins, was a ghost. The story was, he woke up in the staff lounge, went to work as usual, but he accidentally left his body behind. He hasn't cared or even took notice of that ever since. Even when he talked about the most fascinating of goblin rebellions, that gritty monotone could put anyone to sleep. It wasn't until the Thursday of that week that anything happened.

All first-year students of both the Gryfindor and Slytherin house must report to the quidditch pitch at 3:00 to receive basic flight training with Madam Hooch. You may bring your own brooms if you wish.

Harry grinned. "I cannot wait to fly. Hopefully I can rub Malfoy's face in it."

"I hear he's actually pretty good," said Ron.

"Come off it," spat Harry.

"Well, not saying I believe it, I just heard it is all."

Harry confidently walked down to the quidditch pitch, his Nimbus 2000 on his shoulder... He could see Malfoy, who was carrying a much more elegant broom than Harry's.

"Oh, really?" scoffed Ron, looking at the broom. "Look mate, we're flying not modeling." He pointed at Malfoy's broom.

"What's it to you, Weasley. At least my family can afford decent brooms."

"Except for the fact that that's a comet 260, mate. Nobody uses them anymore. Look at Harry's. That's an international-standard racing broom, that is."

Harry lifted his broom a little higher.

"We'll see who's the better man on the broom," hissed Malfoy. "Besides, I hear your family can afford nothing but clean sweeps. Should just sell them to a museum. Maybe you'll get 15 galleons from it, which is good considering that beats what your yearly income is."

"At least the clean sweeps are popular," said Ron.

Finally, the flight lesson would begin. Madam Hooch was a tall, athletic woman with gray hair and yellow, hawk-like eyes. Half of the students, including Ron, had to use old school brooms that looked, for lack of a better word, crappy. Harry set his broom carefully down beside him.

"Welcome to your basic flight training course," said Madam Hooch. "Flying is simple. All you have to do is enforce your will on the broom and make it do your command. For example, if you want to go left, simply steer the broom left. It's that simple. Now, the first thing I want you to do is hold out your hand above the broom and say "up". 

Harry did so. The broom jumped off the ground and into his hand. It started to vibrate. Ron's did the same. Neville's just lay there, twitching. Malfoy's, to Harry's dismay, jumped into his hand eagerly. Harry noticed the look of fear on Neville's face. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid.

"Good," said Hooch. "What I want you to do now is mount your brooms like so." She pulled out a handsome-looking broomstick from behind her back and expertly mounted it. Harry, having done this many times with his old falcon 97, did the same. Madam Hooch walked around, correcting those that were doing it wrong. To Harry's and Ron's delight, Hooch reprimanded Malfoy for doing it all wrong.

" Now, when you mounted your brooms correctly, I want you to kick off from the ground hard. You will hover three feet and come down again. No higher than that. Now, at the count of three! One! Two!"

Neville's broom blasted off the earth like a rocket ship. Neville clung on for dear life as the broom rapidly spun and twirled. It finally turned upside down, causing Neville to fall head-first into the ground. Harry gasped. This was like something from a horror movie. Quickly he plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He muttered a cushioning charm Sirius had taught him and Neville fell safely to the ground. Nope, that was a lie. In the way he landed, he accidentally sprained his left arm. Madam Hooch rushed over to him and checked his pulse.

"He is alright," she announced. "Just a broken arm. It would've been much worse had it not been for Mr. Potter. Thirty points to Gryfindor. Now, I will take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. If I catch anyone of you flying when I'm gone, you will be out of this castle before I can say quidditch. Do I make myself clear?"

Everyone nodded.

"Not good enough. Do I make myself clear!"

"Yes Madam Hooch," everyone chorused.

"Good." Madam Hooch pulled Neville to his feet and, with his one good arm draped over her shoulder, she walked with him outside the pitch.

As soon as they left, the entire Slytherin house burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" spluttered Malfoy, laughing like all the others.

Harry noticed something shiny near the place Neville had fallen. Malfoy noticed it too. He walked over to it, bent down, and picked it up. He raised his palm high in the air, letting everyone see what was in his hand.

"A rememberall?" asked Ron. It was a sphere made out of some sort of milky white crystal. It was translucent and about the size of a large walnut.

"Hmm. Think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find," said Malfoy. "How bout on the roof?"

He mounted his broom and kicked off. Harry had to give it to him. He did look calm and at ease in the air. He flew upward, much to the amusement of the Slytherins.

"Give it back," shouted Harry.

"You want it? You gotta come get it!"

Harry pushed off from the ground, much to the horror and amazement of the Gryfindor house, and much to the cheering of the Slytherin house. It would be just field day if the Great Harry Potter were to be expelled. "Give it here Malfoy or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"I'd like to see you try… oh shit." Harry grabbed his broom with all four limbs and was spearing it towards Malfoy. Malfoy, at the last second, swerved directions. Harry shot after him. This was the air. In here Harry had power. In here Harry knew just what to do. Malfoy seemed surprised that Harry could fly so well. "No Crabbe or Goyle or that fat girl to watch your back out here, Malfoy!"

Malfoy, apparently, agreed with him. He brought his arm back as much as he could, and with all his might, chucked the rememberall into the air. Harry smiled. Dives were just his specialty. He let go his control of the broom, watching in satisfaction as the faces of everyone below ranged from shock to amazement to glee. Harry was inches from the grass, but at the last second, he pulled out of the dive, skimming along the surface of the grass. Deftly, he caught the ball, raising his fist and even giving Malfoy a one-finger salute, much to the laughter of the Gryfindors.

"Harry James Potter!"

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Professor McGonagal strode into the quidditch pitch, surprise written on her face. "Come with me now."

"Professor, it wasn't his fault!" protested a small Gryfindor girl by the name of Parvati Patil.

"This does not concern you, Miss Patil. Please come with me, Mr. Potter." The Slytherins, when she and Harry left, high-fived each other, while the Gryfindors looked angry enough to kill.

Harry didn't speak. He couldn't. He had blown it. His pathetic protective instincts had kicked in and it had cost him 7 years of magical education. What would Sirius say? Would he be ashamed? Would he hate him? Thoughts like this raced through his mind. The two walked up a flight of marble steps. Harry recognized this as the path to the charm's classroom. Harry was puzzled.

McGonagal opened the door to it. "Excuse me, Fillious, can I borrow Wood for a moment?"

"Wood?" Harry thought. Wood, in fact, was a tall, burly fifth year who looked just as confused as Harry.

"You wanted to see me, professor?" he said, glancing questioningly at Harry, who mouthed, "No idea, mate."

"Wood, I believe I've found you a new seeker."

Wood's expression switched from doubt to incredulity to shock in about five seconds. "Is he good?"

"Is he good?" said Professor McGonagal. "I saw him catch a rememberall easily while pulling out of a 50-foot dive. He's a natural!" Harry, at the moment, only cared about one thing: he wasn't going to get expelled. It took about a minute for him to fully register what was happening here.

"Wait, you want me to be seeker?" stammered Harry.

"With those skills you can win us the cup," said Wood.

"I cannot wait to rub this in Severus's face," said McGonagal, grinning. "Flying is in your blood, Harry, but I trust you know that?"

"Yeah, my dad," said Harry.

"His dad?" asked Wood.

"The Gryfindor team had a seven-year winning streak while he was at Hogwarts. He played for six out of those seven years."

Wood stared at Harry. "You better be better than your dad then," he declared. "First team practice is tonight right after dinner. Be there, and don't let me down."

Harry nodded.

"Do you have a broom?" asked Wood.

Harry then realized that he had forgotten his broom. "Crap. I forgot it at the pitch."

"What kind of broom is it?"

"Nimbus 2000. Got it for my 11th birthday."

"Perfect seeker broom! I am loving this!"

At dinner, very few people, surprisingly, knew of Harry being seeker. Wood refused to tell his other teammates. The only two other people he told were Ron and Neville, who quickly recovered from his accident.

"Blimy, Harry!" whispered Ron. "You must be the youngest seeker in the century! The rest of the team ain't slouches either. My two older brothers are beaters."

"They're twins, right?" asked Harry.

"You'll get to know them soon enough, trust me," said Ron. "They're a right pair of gits, but everyone thinks they're funny. But you should see them in the pitch. They're freaky!"

"How so?"

"Hard to explain. Trust me, you will know soon enough."

Dinner finally ended, and several people along the table stood up. Wood pointed at Harry. Harry nodded. He waited until the six players had left. Then, he stood up and followed them. He made sure he was alone. Finally, he caught up to the players. He looked at them all. One of them, obviously, was wood. Two boys with flaming red hair looked ridiculously identical. They had the same identical smile, same identical clothing, even same identical hairstyle. They were exact mirror images of each other. The other three were tall, athletic girls, all of them looking at Harry with mild confusion."

Just leave him be," said Wood. "You'll know soon enough." The six trooped into the locker room to get changed, Wood instructing Harry to wait outside. The six came out wearing quidditch robes with the Gryfindor crest proudly displayed on the chest.

"I'd like you to me the highest prospect for seeker of the Gryfindor Quidditch team," said Wood. Everyone just stared.

"He's a first year," said the tallest of the three girls.

"I know, Angelina. McGonagal reckons he's amazing. I couldn't let the opportunity pass up. How bout we take him out for some flying exercises?"

The rest of the team nodded. "Oy!" cried one of the twins. "Look, guys! He's god a nimbus!"

The other members crowded around to look at the Nimbus 2000 on Harry's shoulder. "Where'd you get it?"

"Was my11th birthday present," said Harry.

"Can you fly?" asked the twin who had spoken.

"Let's test him," said Wood. "Harry. Here's the deal. McGonagal reckons you're good, so you gotta be better. Now, get on that pitch and give me absolutely everything you've got. Everything! You got that?"

Harry nodded, a smile spreading on his face. He mounted the broom, and, at a nod from Wood, took off, spectacularly rocketing into the air. They wanted flying? He'd give them flying. He twirled and barrel rolled. He zipped and he swerved. He even did several 360-degree flips in mid-air. Finally, he ended it with his favorite dive. He climbed higher and higher in the air until he was just a speck. Then, he came plummeting like a comet from the heavens onto the ground. Everyone gasped.

"He's gonna crash!" Angelina cried, whipping out her wand.

But Harry didn't. Instead, he pulled out of the dive, his toes skimming the grass.

Wood just stared, open-mouthed. "Nobody has done that faint in years!" he gasped. "Welcome to the Gryfindor Quidditch team, Harry Potter!" Everyone cheered enthusiastically at this. Harry just smiled.

"You're the youngest seeker in a century, mate," said one of the twins, slapping him on the back. "My name's Fred. My brother's George."

"No, idiot. I'm Fred and you're George."

"No no. I'm Fred!"

"No, I am!"

"Wait, who's Fred?"

"I forgot."

"Hello. I'm Gred."

"I'm Feorge."

It was really confusing talking to the twins.

"Hello, I'm Alicia Spinet," said a girl with blonde hair, shaking his hand. Angelina Johnson came next. Harry noticed something in common among the three girls, presumably chasers. They all were smoking hot.

"I am going to love this team," Harry thought.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Remember how I said that at Hogwarts, secrets didn't exist? Well, I was wrong. Apparently, when you, under no uncertain terms, are instructed by your quidditch captain on the threat of a violent and painful death to keep Harry's addition to the team as close a secret as possible, secrets do, in fact, exist at Hogwarts. Harry gave it his all in practices. His quick reflexes and raw talent, combined with Wood's good coaching skills, quickly made him into a force to be reckoned with on the field. He had grown to like his teammates. Fred and George were fun-loving and born to prank and make mischief. Their inspiration were the Marauders, apparently. The countless stories Sirius had told Harry of them could've filled several books, and there were still more. Harry knew perfectly well of the adventures that his dad, Sirius, Remus, and that good-for-nothing rodent, a'hem, I mean, that good-for-nothing rodent, had during their years at Hogwarts. It was hillarious when Harry had told them of his relationship to three of the four marauders. They had promptly dropped to their knees, put their heads to the floor and chanted, "We're not worthy. We're not worthy. We're not worthy."

Their first match against Slytherin would begin on the 28th of September. Harry had been looking forward to this day. He could not wait to make due on Sirius's promise and kick some Slytherin ass. The whole school shared his sentiment, besides the Slytherins.

The day of the match was beautiful. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and there was no sign of clouds anywhere. It looked to be just the right day for quidditch. Smiling, Harry woke up early. He got dressed and headed downstairs, his broom in his gym bag. The rest of the team, along with a few random students, were already eating breakfast. Harry hungrily piled eggs, English muffins, and some fruit onto his plate.

"Ready?" asked Wood.

"You bet," said Harry.

The hall soon filled up with students eager to see the match. They heard the seeker for the Gryfindor team was awesome. They couldn't wait to find out who it was. Wood, Angelina, Alicia, Katy, Fred, George, and Harry all stood up and filed out first, along with the Slytherin team. Everyone just gaped at Harry. Harry gave them a cheaky grin before following the rest of his team. The seven players went into the lockerrooms to change into their quidditch robes.

"I just have a question. Does anyone get killed in these games?" asked Harry.

"Nah. Just a few broken jaws," said Wood.

"What was your first game like, Wood?"

"I can't remember, honestly," said Wood. "Took a bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up at the hospital a week later."

"Yeah, so don't worry, mate," said Fred. "You're faster than Wood. It'll probably take 5 minutes for a bludger to whack ya."

"Good to know," said Harry.

"Oh shut up you two," said Angelina. "You're scaring the poor kid."

Truthfully, Harry was nervous. However, it took the image of Malfoy's trademark smerk to banish any nervousness. He would beat those Slytherins. No, he wouldn't beat them. He would destroy them!

"Welcome everyone to the first Quidditch game of the season: Gryfindor Vs. Slytherin!" The comentator, Lee Jordin was Fred and George's best friend. He was one of the most unbiased comentators ever.

"Presenting Gryfindor, we have Wood! Johnson! Belle! Spinnet! Weasley! Weasley! and, as our newest and youngest seeker, Potter!" A thundering roar of applause from three quarters of the stands and jeering boos from the Slytherins met his announcement. "And, representing the dark lords in training, AHem, I mean, the Slytherin team, we have Flint! Pucy! Mulciber! Montegue! Crabbe! Goyle! Higgs!"

Madame Hooch was refereeing the match. "Now, I want a nice clean game!" she barked. "From all of you. Captains shake hands!" The handshake quickly turned into a small contest to see who could break each other's hand quicker. "One!" Hooch cried. "Two! Three!" She opened the basket and the bludgers and golden snitch shot out.

Fourteen brooms shot into the sky, following the balls. The quaffle was thrown high in the air, and Angelina caught it.

"Angelina catches the quaffle! What a brilliant chaser and she has a nice set on"

"Jordin!"

"Excuse me. Gryfindor in posession. Angelina passes to Spinnet. Spinet flies. Goyle intercepts. Oo!Close one there. Weasley, can't tell which, hits the bludger. Oo, Pucy takes a hit in the face. That gotta hurt. Gryfindor still in posession. Passes to Belle. Come on Belle! There she goes. Flint tries to catch... GRYFINDOR SCORES!" The stands exploded as the score now read Gryfindor 10-0. "Pucy catches the quaffle. Passes it to Montegue. Flies to goals. Whammo! Weasley strikes again! Pucy releases the quaffle. Montegue gets it. Montegue shoots. Nice save from Wood! And the crowd goes wild. Spinnet catches the quaffle. She throws it. Katy catches it. The hell! Goyle just knocked into her! Foul! Foul! Ok, free penalty shot for Gryfindor. And Alicia makes it! Take that you scumbags!"

"Jordin!"

"Sorry Professor."

The game got considerably more furious after that. Slytherins got three shots in Gryfindor, and they responded in kind. Harry was now searching for the elusive snitch. He spotted it near the Gryfindor goal post. He smiled. Montegue, Pucy, and Mulciber were flying in formation towards the posts. Harry gripped the broom with his limbs and shot forward like an arrow. With a cry he plunged into the formation, scattering them. Since they were directly going to attack the goal posts and not make a pass, maneuvers like that were perfectly legal. Unfortunately, Higs, the opposing seeker, soon spotted him. He flew at top speed towards the snitch. However, Harry was faster, more experienced, and, most importantly, he was closer. He shot towards the snitch. Suddenly, without warning, the broom started to buck.

"The hell's going on with Potter?" cried Jordin. "He's bucking like crazy! He's gonna fall off!"

Ron and the rest of the Gryfindor first years were sitting together. "The hell's up with Harry?"

"Dunno, mate, but it looks bad," said Neville. "Wait. Is that Professor Snape?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Look!" said Neville. "His lips are moving. And his wand's focusing on Harry. You don't think?"

"No way. Snape's not that stupid. He could get into trouble."

"Are you that thick? He hates Harry! Screw this."

"Neville, what are you doing?"

"My gran wants me to become an aurror. This is my firszt mission." He stood up and drew his wand. He calmly walked over the stands. He clambered to where the Professors were sitting. He accidentally bumped into Quirrelle who swore loudly. Neville did too. His cover was blown. But he didn't care. He pointed his wand at Snape's back and muttered, "Incendio!" There was a rushing sound, and Snape's robes burst into flame. Neville made sure he looked as small as possible. Luckily nobody saw him cast the spell. He ran back to where he was sitting.

"Mission accomplished," he said. "Though that was the scariest thing in my life."

Harry, meanwhile, was hanging on for dear life. Higs was gaining ground, and doing it fast. He tried with all his might to get his broom under control, but his broom just didn't feel like obeying him right now. He tried going forward. His broom did, in fact, go forward. It tipped forward, sending Harry almost sliding to the edge of the broom and falling into empty space. He grabbed the broom with his knees and gritted his teeth. Finally, miraculously, it stopped. The broom righted itself in the air. Harry experimentally took a few turns. It worked. He smiled, did a fist pump and shot forward to claim his prize. But Higs was ahead of him. He saw Higs feet away from the snitch.

"Come on, Nimbus don't fail me now!" he cried. With a sudden burst of speed, he overtook Higs. He reached out his hand, and he felt the cold metal of the snitch in his fingers. He had done it. This was his first ever quidditch game and he had won. He proudly shook his fist in the air and descended to the ground along with his teammates, all of them who were highfiving each other.]

"We thought you were done for, mate," said Fred, slapping him on the back. "Nice to see you're still among the living. And nice catch!"

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning. "What was the score?"

"230 to 30," said Wood. "Spectacular catch!"


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

AN: I uploaded the next three chapters on to document manager. I was sitting, checking my email. I expected story alerts, reviews, or even confirmation that the story was uploaded to the website. What I didn't expect, however, was for me to find out that I never actually published the chapters in the first place. I am an idiot, I know. Laugh all you want. Well, I will shut the hell up now so you can read this thing.

At Hogwarts, Harry was no longer a famous name. Harry was one of the best seekers since James Potter and Charlie Weasley to have ever attended Hogwarts. Malfoy, to put it lightly, was beyond pissed. Dinner's conversation was mainly on Harry this, Harry that, and Harry that. He was sick of it. What was Harry but a pathetic weasel who just got lucky? He was Draco Malfoy, heir to one of the most powerful and influential families of all Great Britain. The Potter family glory was ruined when James married that no-good mudblood bitch. Their name was mud now. He would make Potter pay.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were grouped at the table at dinner. "Oh, look who it is," drawled Ron.

Malfoy strode over to the table. His face was completely set in an expression of hatred. "Hello, Potter," he spat. "Hope you enjoyed your little victory. It won't last long."

"Ya know what, Malfoy? I've had it with your bullshit. If you could actually back it up, I would respect you. But you're just another punk ass little weasel who's bark but no bite."

"Then let's prove it," said Malfoy, undetered. "At midnight, be at the trophy room. I challenge you to a wizard's duel!"

Harry just laughed. "Really? A duel? Fine, I'll accept your challenge. Who's your second? You'll be needing him."

"Bullstrode," said Malfoy. "Yours?"

"Me," said Ron.

"Ok then. Do not forget."

When he left, the trio burst out laughing. "A duel?" spluttered Ron. "He's really desperate."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Come off it," said Ron. "Nobody does duels anymore unless there really is no other option."

"Good point," said Harry. "But it doesn't matter. He's gonna be crying for his mummy inside a minute when I'm done with him."

"That's my boy!" cried Neville, slapping him on the back.

"Oh no," groaned Harry. "Here comes Professor Overbite."

"Did I just here what I think I just heard?" Hermione cried, shaking a finger at him. "Are you actually going to duel Malfoy?"

"Yeah, he is," blurted Ron. "What's your problem, anyway?"

Hermione sighed. "I have had enough. First, you defy school rules by hurting Malfoy and his friends. You got away with it. Next, Hooch clearly told you to stay on the ground, but no! You just had to go into the air. I saw you that morning. I cannot believe that you were given a position on the Gryfindor team for breaking rules! I have had enough!" With that, she strode off.

"Wait! How did you know!" called Harry. She ignored him. He sighed. "I have had enough too," muttered Harry.

"That's women for ya," called one of the Weasley twins who had overheard Hermione's outburst.

Later that night, Harry was anxious. He could not wait till the duel began. They were suppose to fight in the trophy room near the third-floor corridor.

"Good luck," said Ron.

"And don't get too cocky either," said Neville. "Malfoys are dark. Maybe he has been taught some dark magic?"

"Come off it," said Ron. "Even if he did, Harry didn't even cast one spell and he took him and his three buddies down with him."

Neville shrugged. "Just sayin'."

The only one of Harry's friends that was against the idea completely was Vinconex.

"Hasn't occured to you that this could be a trap of some kind?"

"What do you mean?" thought Harry.

"I mean, that boy is not stupid. He would not pick a fight he cannot win unless he had reason to. He's just taking advantage of your stupidity.

" "What do you want me to do?" shot Harry back. "Sit back and be a coward?"

"Better to be a coward than to be expelled. I don't think its a good idea to go."

"Well, that sucks for you because I'm going."

"Fine!" hissed Vinconex. "But when you're riding the train back home, you can explain to Sirius what happened, and I'll just sit back, preen my feathers, and laugh at your complete stupidity."

Harry ignored him.

It was 11:30 PM. Ron and Neville vollunteered to go with Harry. Harry had showed them his invisibility cloak. They all stared in complete shock at the gossamer garment.

"You know those are nearly impossible to get?" cried Ron.

"Bloody hell mate," said Neville. "You're the only kid in this school who has one of these. I'm sure of it!"

Luckily, the cloak was big enough to cover all of them completely. Harry noticed Vinconex flash into existence in the middle of the otherwise empty common room.

"I'm coming with you," said Vinconex. "I could use the entertainment."

They began their trek towards the trophy room. Vinconex had cloaked himself. Apparently, Basilisks were proficient with mind arts, and complete invisibility to the naked eye was one of them. Since he was part basilisk, he could do that. They headed down several flights of stairs. They passed the charms corridor on the third floor. There was an unmarked door near them, and another across from it. This one all of them took.

They crowded into a large room. The interior was lit with torches set in sconces along the walls. They illuminated all sorts of awards, plaques, and shields that were proudly displayed in neat clumps on the sides of the room, leaving the middle free. Harry had stepped out of the cloak, making sure that the others couldn't be seen. He walked to the middle, his wand out. He waited. And waited.

"Didn't I tell you?" hissed Vinconex.

The minutes crept by. Harry checked his watch. It was 10 minutes to midnight. He continued to wait. He was absentmindedly twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Expelliarmus." The voice came out of seemingly thin air. Harry's wand flew across the room.

"Malfoy!" Harry spat.

"That's not Malfoy," hissed Vinconex. "The voice is different. He is older. He is more powerful. Also, its a girl."

Harry gasped. "Show yourself!" he cried.

Laughter was his reply. "Scared yet Potter?"

"Damned pussy," Harry thought. Aloud, he said, "Typical Slytherin. So Malfoy doesn't have big enough balls so he sends somebody after me?"

His reply was a jet of purple light that Harry nimbly dodged. Harry knew he wasn't dealing with some amature. This person was older than him. However, it might've been his upbringing, but he just laughed. "Have to try better than that!" he taunted.

Sirius had woken up, alarmed at the beeping that alerted him.

"Not again," he groaned. He pulled out his mirror and watched. Harry appeared to be in the trophy room. Vinconex was above him. A girl was in front of him. With a jolt, he realized she had Harry's wand. She was taller than Harry and looked older.

Harry threw himself to one side as another purple curse missed. It was dissolved before it could hit something. "Fuck this," Harry thought. Olivander had equipped his holster with a small button that, when pressed, would summon his wand back to his hand. He pressed it. The wand came zooming towards him, and he caught it. "Revela!" he cried, sweeping his wand in the direction of the voice. Finally, a glowing light surrounded her as a disillusionment charm was lifted.

"Bravo," she said. "Well done."

Harry eyed her up and down. She was pretty nice-looking. Her hair was black, her eyes a piercing blue. Her high cheekbones and pale skin suggested someone of noble blood. Also, she looked a lot like Sirius. She looked to be about 15, with a very nice hourglass figure.

"Who are you?" asked Harry.

"Beladonna Lestrange," she replied curtly.

Harry froze. He knew that name, Lestrange. "Death eater!" he spat. Instantly, he threw his most powerful stunning spel at her, the important masculine rule to never harm a woman long-forgotten. Belladonna quickly conjured up a shield and sent two more back at him. Harry flicked his wand, conjuring another shield. The purple curse he had seen earlier hit the shield. Harry wasn't hit, but the shield was blasted into pieces.

Meanwhile, Argus Filch was having a horrible day as usual. His duties as caretaker were horrible, to say the least: cleaning after obnoxious students, tidying up the castle, and not being able to inflict good old-fashioned midieval punishments on troublemaking brats. He was currently sitting alone in his office. It was not decorated. Well, it was. However, the decorations were not really meant to be decorations. Chains hung on the walls connected to pegs. Manacles were hooked to the walls as well. Ropes hung from the ceiling. Whips with spikes adourned the area. A knock on the door interupted him. He grunted as he got up. He shuffled over to the door and opened it. "What do you want?" he barked.

A girl was standing in the doorframe. Filch didn't know, nor did he care who she was. "I, uh, I came to tell you. There's going to be a fight in the trophy room at midnight."

Filch shrugged. "And I care because?"

"Well, isn't it your job to catch troublemakers? Fighting is against school rules."

Filch shrugged. "Thanks for the tip. Now scram!" The girl didn't need to be told twice. She did just that.

Later that night, he was searching the area with his faithful companion and partner in crime, Mrs. Norris. Mrs. Norris was an old tabby who apparently had nothing better to do in her spare time than help her master in his never-ending quest to catch students breaking school rules. They searched and they searched, but they didn't find anything.

"Petrifacus Totalus!" Harry cried. This girl was good. She had blocked every single one of his spells. Only fast reflexes and superior physical fitness stopped him from getting hit as well.

"The great Harry Potter launching body-binds? pathetic." Suddenly, everyone froze. They had heard a low, reedy voice in the distance.

"Sniff around my sweet; I can hear something."

Harry knew he had been caught.

"You do realize you're screwed, right?" commented Vinconex.

"Not now!" cried Harry. "Flash me out of here!"

"Nope," said Vinconex. "Besides, you walked to here without problems. I cannot see why walking back would be that hard?"

"Not now! Flash me back!"

"Nope."

Harry sighed. Belladonna muttered something about prey escaping from her fingers and stuck her wand back in her pocket.

Harry then realized something. He had forgotten about the invisibility cloak. Ron and Neville were concealed under it.

"Can you at least flash Neville and Ron?" pleaded Harry.

"Fine," said Vinconex. He went right to where the two were standing and, with his powerful tallons, picked them up, cloak and all, and disappeared, making sure that the flash of fire couldn't be seen by the girl.

"Let's move," said Harry.

The girl didn't need to be told twice. She dashed through a door hidden on the opposite wall, Harry closely following her. They locked the door behind them and ran for it.

They ran down several hallways before coming to a dead end. There was a door in front of them, but it was locked. "Shit," muttered Harry. Belladonna elbowed him aside and, with a muttered spell, unlocked the door with her wand. Harry stepped through after her, only now realizing where they were headed. It was the third floor corridor, the one that Dumbledore had warned them about. And, unless you think huge, three-headed dogs with venomous fangs and an appetite for humans wasn't dangerous, then this place was pretty bad. They gasped.

"That's a cerberus!" cried the girl.

"Shut up!" hissed Harry. "You'll wake it up!" And he was right. All three heads rose up. The dog, who had been lying on the floor, was clambering to its feet. It looked at them, sizing them up. Then, the three heads growled in three separate throats. Not exactly man's best friend.

"Nice doggy?" Harry muttered.

"Run, you fool!" hissed the girl, before doing just that, scurrying nimbly around the huge form of the dog. Harry dashed after her, through an open door, the rumbling barks following them all the way through. The two ran for it, down corridors, through passage ways, up staircases that seemingly lead to nowhere. Finally, Belladonna nodded.

"My common room's this way," she said. "Have fun!" And with that, she cast a disillusionment charm on her. Before she left, she said. "Oh, and sorry for attacking ya. I was getting paid bigtime to do this, and I needed the money. Ah well."

Harry just stood there, transfixed as he heard the sound of a door close. Then, he finally remembered he had to go back to the common room. He ran down the hall and took a secret passageway to Gryfindor tower that Sirius had told him about. He finally appeared in front of the fat lady.

"Password?"

"Pig snout!" Harry said breathlessly. The portrait swung open.

"I have a feeling I don't want to know where the devil you were upto," she said before Harry stepped through.

"You have no idea," he muttered.

AN: three chapters done. So, r and r, positive, constructive criticism, flames,whatever you like. but I will make one thing perfectly clear. Do not, I repeat, do not, ask any questions that concern the plot or the movement of the story. If you couldn't understand something, or if you find a plothole, I'm all ears. Otherwise, read dammit! read!


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"A bloody cerberus?" Ron gasped at breakfast. Harry had told him and Neville everything that happened after Vinconex flashed them away. Vinconex was suspicious.

"Cerberuses are noted for guarding places," he had said. "In fact, a cerberus is known for guarding the gates of Hell. Something's afoot."

"Ya know," said Harry. "Uncle Sirius picked up something from a vault on my birthday. He said he had no clue as to what the thing was. But there was a Daily Profit article talking about a gringots break-in, and how it had failed because the owner of the vault emptied the vault earlier that same day."

"You're saying your uncle's got something to do with it?"

"I'll talk to him during lunch. He's got to know something."

After suffering through potions again, Harry finally went to lunch. "I'll be at the common room," he said.

"We're coming with you," stated Ron and Neville.

The three headed up towards the common room on their own. Vinconex met them there, circling idly about the place. He saw them enter.

"Fancy seeing you here," he hissed out loud.

"It really creeps me out when he does that," said Neville.

"Too bad," hissed Vinconex.

"He says "too bad"," said Harry.

"Why are you three here anyways?" asked Vinconex.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out something out of his pocket. It was the mirror Harry had given him. He knew that it was a two-way mirror. However, he noticed a small button on the handle of it. It read: FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY. He pressed it. Instantly, the reflection of himself disappeared to be replaced with the words: WHAT PART OF "FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND!

He shrugged and spoke into the mirror. "Sirius Black!" The mirror went blank for an instant. Then, the familiar face of Sirius Black swam into view.

"Hey, Harry. What d'you need?"

"Are you alone?" asked Harry.

"Um, yeah? What do you need?"

"Do you know anything about something being guarded at Hogwarts?"

Sirius's puzzled expression turned into one of indifference. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, you do. You picked up something at that vault. Then somebody tried to break into it. Then I see a demon dog last night."

"Demon dog?" asked Sirius.

"It's fricking huge! That cerberus almost killed me."

"What the bloody hell were you doing near a cerberus!"

"I, uh, was running away from something."

Sirius knew perfectly well what he was running away from. He had seen that duel between Harry and that girl. Then, he had heard the voice of Filch before the connection ended. "Right. So you ran into a cerberus?"

"Not my fault that thing was there."

"You're right," said Sirius. "It isn't. But I'll only tell you one thing. That's a top-priority item, and this is for adults only. You don't need to concern yourselves with this. Me and every single teacher at this school has put specific defenses around it. Now, run along. Worry about grades, girls, and quidditch. Don't go Shirlock Holmes because it will only put you into unnecessary danger. Do you understand?"

Harry just stood silent.

"I said, do you understand?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Good. Now, have fun. Oh, and any matches I need to know about?"

"I beat Slytherin!" said Harry, grinning. "Caught the ball after my broom decided to kill me."

"What!" Sirius said sharply.

"Yeah. Dunno, must be a bug in there. But my broom was bouncing all over the place. I nearly fell off."

Sirius's face changed to one of anger. "That broom didn't have one bug on it," he said dangerously. "I had it stripped down and checked for dark charms myself."

Ron and Neville shared a look. "Um, about that, um, we think Snape did that."

"Snape?" asked Sirius. "D'you mean Snivelous Snape?"

"Snivelous?" asked Harry.

"Tall, greasy hair, sallow skin, met him?"

"Met him?" asked Harry. "He's my potions teacher."

Sirius put his face in his hands. "I offer my deepest condolances." Then, he realized what Ron and Neville had just said. "Do you mean that he tampered with your broom?" he said in a low, quiet whisper.

"Yeah!" said Neville.

"That bastard," he growled. "I'm coming up there!" Instantly, the connection broke.

"Um, what happened?" said Ron.

"Snape's gonna get it now," said Harry. "Sirius is damn scary when he's mad."

Sirius was fuming. He thought he'd seen the face of that no-good death eater years ago. He was the greatest thorn in Sirius's side when they were little. Now, he was after his godson. Nobody messed with his godson. Nobody! He muttered to himself as he put on his "DeathCon 0" uniform, as he called it. Fur-lined basilisk skin boots went on his feet. On his legs went a set of basilisk-skin jeans with a studded belt. The studds were really potions and napalm grenades but nobody really needed to know that. On his body he wore a tight-fitting dragonscale bodysuit, over which he wore a vest made of dragon skin. He wore a remmington 20 gauge on his shoulder, and his wand was on a concealed holster on his wrist. Lastly, he threw on a hooded, black, rune-marked cape with a hood that concealed his face. He made sure his gun was fully loaded and that the safety was off. Then, he promptly walked out of the house, remarking to Kreacher that he would be back shortly. He then turned on the spot and disapparated into a familiar area that was very close to the gates of Hogwarts. It was just outside the powerful anti-apparation wards that cacooned the entire grounds. He marched threw the gates and angrily stormed through the open doorways. He angrily walked down the entrance hall, then stopped. The great hall was teeming with chatter. He cursed. It was lunch time. No matter, he was off duty. He had time. He cast a disillusionment charm on himself and walked down towards the dungeons. He waited. And waited. But Snivelous wasn't showing his greasy head.

Finally, he saw the unmistakable rush of students heading down the stairs, going towards classes. He saw Snape stride purposefully towards his quarters. Sirius tailed him. Finally, Snape opened the door, and Sirius calmly slipped inside. It wasn't until Snape closed the door that Sirius decided to, um, reveal himself.

"Incarcerus!" he hissed. Ropes sprang out from the tip of his wand. He dispelled the disillusionment charm and threw back the hood of his cloak.

"What the?" cried Snape, trying to find his wand. Then, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Sirius. "Black. What is the meaning of this?"

Sirius grabbed the handle of his gun with trembling fingers. "You," he hissed, "You tried to kill my godson."

"I did no such thing. Aaa!" Sirius fired. He wasn't planning on killing Snape, not yet. He packed the clips with shells enchanted with a stabbing hex. It pretty much felt as if a needle was violently shoved into your arm, without any blood.

"Unhand me at once, Black. I can have you arrested for this!"

"Really?" Sirius hissed. ""cause I know of Harry's little problem with his broom. What, so was it because Gryfindor was about to beat Slytherin? Or was it because you have to take your hatred of James Potter on him? Why!"

"I didn't, aaa!" Another shell.

"Don't fucking give me your excuses, Snivelous! Listen to me, and listen to me good. I know where you live. I know how to get to your quarters. And I know ways to make you disappear off this planet without anyone knowing the difference. If you ever touch my godson again, I will fucking kill you. I swore to James and Lily I would protect him and dammit I will stand by that promise. Leave Harry Potter alone!" The last word was followed by a final shell. "Speak of this to anyone and, you know the rest." With that, he stormed out the room, freeing Snape and banishing the shell remains.

Snape dizzily got to his feet. He had never seen Black so, well, angry. The look in his eye proved that he meant every single word he said. Snape knew that Sirius wasn't bluffing. His contacts could easily erase Snape's identity. Snape could get his pride get in the way of a lot of things, but he was no fool. He would listen to Black.

"Reckon what Sirius is gonna do?" asked Ron.

"Dunno, but if Snape ends up at the bottom of the Great Lake, we know what happened."

The other two laughed. "Serves the git well."

"Aww, come on. Every school's got its one bad teacher, the teacher that no one likes."

"Mate, the guy was trying to kill you. If it hadn't been for Neville here, you'd've ended up with every bone in your body broken."

"Come on. Snape? Try to kill me? Really?"

"Dude," said Neville, "his lips were moving and he was concentrating on you, his wand pointed at you. That kinda means he's casting a curse spell."

"You're joking," said Harry.

"Nope, I'm not," said Ron.

Harry was stunned. Well, wouldn't you be? There's a teacher bent on killing him! He remembered all the snide remarks Snape would make during his classes, the points he would deduct from Gryfindor simply because Harry was there, the way he would glare at him when he got a potion right. The man hated him. He had to talk to someone. Anyone. Then again, he sort of did. Sirius would know what to do. He always did.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nothing exciting happened within the next month or so after the incedent with the cerberus. Harry was excelling in all of his classes, including, much to Snape's utter dismay, potions. Also, Quirrelle could be a pretty good teacher when he wanted to be. Harry now knew a perfectly good tripping jinx, and he had perfected the disarming spell. Then along comes Halloween.

Back in the times of the Celts and pagans, Halloween was seen as the day in which the veil between life and death had a small crack. Some tradditions, like putting jack-o-lanterns outside are still alive today. However, to the Muggles, it is a fun holliday to dress up and maybe scare the crap out of little kids or get candy. For wizards, this is the day when underworld-associated dark creatures, like vampires, were at their strongest, and some of the old Celtic traditions were alive and well in the magical world. The staff of Hogwarts proved this very well by placing jack-o-lanterns everywhere. The ghosts seemed to be happier than ever. Peeves, the resident poltergeyst, seemed to be more substantial and a lot more annoying than usual.

The day started well enough. Harry managed to concoct a perfect shrinking sollution, but he was docked 15 points from Gryfindor for rubbing it in everyone else's face. Apparently, grinning at your frend and telling him you got it right counts in Snape's book. Things went pretty down hill since charms, however.

Tiny little Professor Flitwick was standing on his usual pile of books to see over his desk. "Ok class," he said with a squeak, "I have heard your pleas, and I will oblige. Today, we shall learn how to make objects fly." It was true. Every student was anxious to learn how to make objects fly ever since Flitwick had made Neville's toad zoom spectacularly all over the room.

After demonstrating the movements, "The swish and flick. Repeat after me: the swish, and, flick' he finally pronounced the spell. "You do not want to mispronounce this spell. Let us not forget the story of Otis the herder, who was trying to levitate a bucket of milk and ended up with a cow sitting on his chest." He assigned everyone partners. "Harry, you will be working with Neville. Parvati, you take Padma. Lavender, you will go with Anthony. Ron and Hermione. Michael and Terry."

"Good luck!" Harry mouthed at Ron as he made his way towards Hermione. Luckily, charms was the one thing besides Herbology and DADA that Neville actually was good at. Well, not really. On his first try, he made the feather elongate and jab him in the jaw. Harry sighed.

"Wingardium leviosa," he said clearly. The feather rose into the air. Harry grinned. "This is pretty cool!" he cried. He directed his magic towards the feather, making it spin, twirl, and do a series of quidditch moves Oliver Wood had taught him.

Ron and Hermione weren't having as much fun.

"Oh come on, Ronald!" Hermione said exasperatedly, replacing the feather for a third time. The other two feathers were the flakes of ash drifting to the ground over by their desk.

""Well, what am I doing wrong?" he said with annoyance.

"Don't talk to me like that," she snapped. "Not my fault you burned our other two feathers. You should listen, like me. I listen all the time, and have you ever seen me get a spell wrong? Nope, you haven't."

"And have I seen you hang out with at least one friend? No, I haven't! Why? Because your bossy know-it-all attitude annoys the hell out of everyone!"

Hermione didn't answer. She stood up, picked up her things, and promptly walked out of the classroom, ignoring Flitwick, who was trying to call her back.

After class, Ron cooled down considerably. "I shouldn't have been so hard on her," he said quietly.

"Hard on her?" said Harry incredulously. "Ron, you were completely right!"

"Still," said Ron. "I dunno why, but I kinda feel bad for her."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever. If it makes you feel any better, why not go appologize to her?"

Ron didn't appologize to her, but it wasn't due to lack of trying. Hermione wasn't seen all this morning. Even at lunch, she was absent from the Ravenclaw table. He had asked Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil about it. If the two undisputed princesses of gossip didn't know, nobody else would. It turns out they didn't.

To add to Ron's guilt, Hermione wasn't seen for the rest of the day, not even to attend classes. However, there was one event that nobody at Hogwarts would even think of missing: the Hogwarts anual Halloween feast.

The cooking staff of Hogwarts, whomever they were, went all out on this one. The candles that usually floated high above the tables were now inside large jack-o-lanterns whose faces actually looked realistic. Live bats chittered and chirped as they flew about the area. Ghosts and skeletons were dancing in the corners of the great hall. Most amazing of all was, of course, the food. Harry was surprised the tables didn't crack underneath the weight of so much food. There were enormous heaps of mashed potatos, enough roast beef, pork, and chicken to feed the British army, rivers of gravy contained within golden boats with skulls beautifully crafted on the sides, and gallons upon gallons of every non-alcoholic and school-appropriate beverage you could think of. There were also the halloween specials. There was bug juice, with the raisins in them actually swimming and buzzing of their own accord, meatballs that rolled along the platters and seemed to look directly at the students like actual eyes, and cockroach clusters that were actually real cockroaches encased in caramel.

"D'you see Hermione?" asked Ron.

Harry looked at the Ravenclaw table and shook his head. "No," he said. He was busy munching on cooked carrots to care.

"I'm kinda worried now," said Ron. "Did I make her that upset?"

"Not to make you feel bad, but seems like ya did," said Harry over a mouthful of spaghetti.

Ron sighed. He prodded his venesin steak half-heartedly. Harry could tell he was sad, even by the way he cut the steak: slow, measured, and not with the relish that he'd seen Ron with when he was near food of any kind.

"Oy Ron!" called Seamus Finigan, a fellow Gryfindor first-year.

"Yeah?" said Ron.

Seamus walked over to them and bent down to whisper into Ron's ear. Harry caught what he was saying, however.

"I overheard the girls talking," he said in an Irish accent. "What you did must've upset Hermione. Parvati says she was going to the bathroom when she found her there, in a stall, crying. I thought you might like to know."

Ron, at that moment, felt utterly miserable. "Thanks," he said sadly.

"No problem," said Seamus. "I agree with ya on what ya said, but you oughta appologize, mate."

Ron nodded.

Bang! The doors to the great hall burst open. A lot of students screamed. Framed in the doorway, with a crazed look in his eye, was Professor Quirrelle. "Troll! In the dungeon!" he cried. "Troll in the dungeon! Thought you oughta know." Then, he promtly fainted.

The silence that followed only lasted about 3 seconds. Then, the screams began. Dumbledore got off his golden chair and raised his wand. There was an enormous flash of golden light that almost blinded everyone in the room, along with a deafening bang. "Silence!" he said in a voice that carried throughout the room. "Now, everyone please, do not panic. Teachers, I would like you to come with me to the dungeons. Prefects please guide your students to their common rooms. The feast will be moved there for anyone who still wishes to eat. Now, go! All of you! Now!"

The students didn't need to be told twice. Ron stood up to follow them, when Harry seized his arm.

"Hermione's in the bathroom!" he hissed. "She doesn't know. We gotta warn her!"

Ron understood. They melted into the crowds for a moment, Percy screaming for order. Finally, when they exited the great hall, Harry and Ron sprinted towards an empty hall. They both had their wands out, ready to fight. Then, as they rounded a corner, they almost gagged. It was the most repulsive smell ever. Picture an open tin of catfood. Now, mix it with raw souage. Now, leave it to dry up in an enclosed space during a hot summer day. Now multiply that by 10. That could describe the smell perfectly. Something fowl was up ahead.

Then, they saw a figure heading in another direction. Harry strained his eyes to see. It was Snape. He was walking towards the staircase. He stifled a gasp, but it wasn't time to worry about that now. They ran towards the source of the smell. Finally, they came to the source.

It was an unmarked door with a sign next to it reading Girls. They crept nearer and tried to see inside. Of course, the door couldn't be seen through. There were spells in place to make sure that couldn't happen. But, it could be opened. Ron turned the knob and crept inside, followed by Harry, who was clutching his wand.

Vinconex had been taling them, invisible. Now, he made his presence known. "That's a mountain troll," he hissed into Harry's mind. "The worst of its kind. Good luck taking that one down!"

"We have to," hissedHarry back.

Vinconex became invisible again, but flew circles around Harry's head, claws out, beak extended, ready to protect him. The three crept closer. The troll was enormous. It reached a height of about 12 feet. Its bulk was rippling with muscle, but its head was unusually small. However, the club he hefted in one hand as if it was a toy wand was not small. It probably weighed as much as Harry did. It had long arms that ran down to his knees. Its hide was covered in tough bristles like a hog's. Its feet were flat and horny. The only thing it was wearing was a long tunic made of some animal skin. Harry did not want to find out what it was made of. He could barely make out bushy brown hair in the corner. Then, he heard a thin, high scream as the troll roared.

"Screw this!" Ron hissed. "Expelliarmus!" he cried. A jet of red light blasted out his wand and hit the troll. It did absolutely nothing. Well, it did. The troll turned around, its tiny eyes locked on Ron.

"Whoops?" he said weakly.

Harry liked to be a bit more destructive. "Incendio!" he shouted. Fire sprayed like water out his wand and hit the troll. It only annoyed him.

"Troll's hides are annoyingly impervious to magic," said Vinconex. "You'll only annoy it."

Harry ignored this. "Defindo! glacialis pugnus!" The two spells rocketed out of his wand. One made a small papercut on the troll's hide. The other made a tiny hole in it. Blood was trickling out, but it still wasn't enough.

"Petrificus totalus!" cried Ron. Nothing.

"incendia saevio!" cried Harry desperately. He actually got that spell right on his first try. A ripple of black flames blasted out the tip of his wand, striking the troll. Nothing.

Then, Ron was struck with an idea. Maybe he couldn't hurt the troll magically, but perhaps... "Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried, pointing his wand at the club. It soared gracefully from the troll's grasp. It zoomed around its head and finally, it dropped. Right into the hands of the troll. Ron tried again. The troll's brute strengthe more than matched Ron's power.

"We're screwed!" cried Ron. Hermione was still shivering in the corner, her hands covering her mouth. Even after all the mean things they had traded back and forth, these two were risking their lives to save her.

"Let me take a crack at him," hissed Vinconex. Harry nodded. Harry would forever learn never to piss off a cockatrice.

Vinconex instantly made his presence known. His whole body was wreathed in black flames. He then opened his beak and uttered a long, harsh cry. It filled the three people in the room with courage and determination. It filled the troll with a pounding headache. Vinconex dive-bombed the troll, stabbing his beak into the troll's face repeatedly. He even sent blasts of fire at it, which amazed Harry. Then, he remembered something. Cockatrices could effectively poison somebody with their beak stabs. The troll roared as it swung its club and fist at Vinconex, who nimbly got out of its way. Harry noticed that the troll's movements were far more sluggish than before. The poison was disabling him already. Vinconex then did something Harry had never seen him do. He hovered over the troll and locked eyes with him. Instantly, the troll swayed on its feet and fell forward, dead.

"That was fun!" hissed Vinconex. He landed on Harry's shoulder again.

"Tell him to remind me never to piss him off," said Ron. Harry passed the message on. Vinconex trilled in response, presumably with laughter. Then, he made himself invisible.

"I'd really like to see how they react if they learned you killed a troll?" hissed Vinconex into Harry's mind. Harry grinned.

Instantly, the doors flew open. Professors McGonagal, Snape, Flitwick, and Quirelle strode into the bathroom. Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape walked with a slight limp.

"What in God's name are you three doing here?" barked McGonagal. Then, her face turned white at the sight of the troll's body on the floor. "How, how did you kill it!"

"Not sure myself," Harry lied. "It was Ron's idea. I levitated the club and hit him on the head. Think I hit him harder than anticipated."

"There is a lot of blood here," remarked Flitwick, examining the troll.

"Ya know what, I want a reward for this." Vinconex instantly flashed into existence, startling the professors.

"Is that your cockatrice?" asked McGonagal.

"Cockatrice?" asked Snape. Then his face turned comically white at the sight of it. "P-P-Potter, where did you get that thing?"

Vinconex hissed in Harry's mind. "Um, he says you really oughta use more haircare products, sir." Snape's face turned into an expression of anger.

"Why you insulant little-"

"Hey, he said it not me. Give him detention!" said Harry, pointing an accusatory finger at the cockatrice.

"What are you doing with one of the most dangerous magical creatures alive, first of all?" asked Snape.

"He's my familiar?" said Harry. "Hogwarts rules clearly state that students are allowed one pet or familiar."

"Nonsense," said Snape. "There has never been a bonded cockatrice in recorded history!"

"Well, there is one now," said Harry.

"So, it was the cockatrice that killed the troll, not you?" asked McGonagal.

"Hey, he told me to lie," said Harry.

"Very well," said McGonagal. "But, Miss Granger, what were you doing in the bathroom in the first place?"

This was the part Ron had been dreading. "I wanted to deal with the troll," said Hermione. "I read about mountain trolls, and I thought I could deal with them on my own."

"So much for wit and learning," stated Snape flatly. "You really ought to be in Gryfindor if your bravery exceeds your thinking capacity."

"Enough," said McGonagal. "Partly, I do agree with Professor Snape. Miss Granger, your actions were highly foolish. I expected better from you. Five points from Ravenclaw." Hermione looked stunned. This was the first time she had been reprimanded by a teacher.

"As for you two," said McGonagal. "Hadn't it been for your timely arrival, Miss Granger would most likely be dead. I award 5 points to Gryfindor to the each of you. Oh, and make it 10 more for the cockatrice's bravery."

Vinconex trilled happily in response.

"I suggest the three of you go back to the common rooms. There is still much food left but it will all be gone soon," said McGonagal. Harry and Ron nodded as the teachers left.

Finally, when they were all alone, the two looked at Hermione with incredulity. "What was that all about?" asked Ron. "You go from hating us to saving our necks?"

"You guys saved my neck," said Hermione. "Look, I was thinking. Maybe I can be too much of a goody-two-shoes at times. You were right."

"I'm sorry for what I said in charms," said Ron.

"No, I'm sorry," said Hermione. "For not realizing what you said sooner. Maybe we can be friends?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure," he said.

Ron nodded. "Sure. But I don't care. I want my food now!"


	10. Chapter 9

9 Chapter

Hermione proved to be a very good friend. She was a lot less of a goody-two-shoes now, plus she gained the favor of some of the Gryfindors. Still, she would always remain a bookworm at heart.

A cold day in November, yet another thing had to happen. It started with a note to Harry from the gamekeeper, Hagrid.

Harry, my name is Hagrid. I thought ya'd like a cup o' tea with me today. I know you have a free period. Would ya wanna come?

Harry showed the note to Ron and Hermione.

"Sure," said Ron. "My older brother Charlie says he's a good man."

Hermione just nodded. "Is he really a giant?"

"Yup," said Harry.

That afternoon, the trio headed down towards Hagrid's hutt. Harry knocked three times on the door. They heard a loud barking sound from inside as Hagrid opened the door. A large, black boarhound bounded out and barked at them.

"Down, Fang! Good boy!" Hagrid was having great difficulty in pulling Fang's leash. When Fang was calmed, he smiled and waved them in.

The interior of the hutt was very cozy. A large dog bed lay in the corner, presumably for Fang. Another massive, double king-sized bed was there as well. Harry noticed a couple weapons on the walls, along with a flowery, pink umbrella. All in all, it was a pretty nice place.

They said as much, which made Hagrid beam. "How you lot doin' in yer classes?"

"Doing pretty good," said Ron. "These two here are the top of every class."

"Just like your parents," said Hagrid, looking at Harry. "Your father was a right troublemaker, but he still managed to get head boy, a quidditch captaincy, and the house and quidditch cup seven years in a row."

"I thought he didn't play for seeker on his first year?" asked Harry.

"He didn't," said Hagrid. "But the cup was still won that year. And you!" he said, looking at Ron. "Another Weasley, eh?"

"Yeah," said Ron.

"I knew yer brother Charlie," he said. "Fascinating fella he was. Loved animals. Took 'im under my wing for a couple years, taught 'im how to care for certain animals. What's he been doing?"

"He works at a dragon reserve in Romania," said Ron. "He leads the dragon handelers."

"I knew he would," said Hagrid. Lastly, he turned to Hermione. "And who might this little lady be?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Granger, Granger, are you a muggle born?" he asked.

She nodded.

Understanding flickered into his eyes. "How you likin' the school?"

"Its amazing!" she cried. "I never knew wonders like this even existed before I got my invitation letter."

Then, Hagrid stood up straighter. "Ah, forgot me manners for a sec. Would all ya like a something to eat?" The three nodded.

He then took a large pot out of an unseen cabinet and started to boil some tea.

Then, Harry noticed a piece of paper on the table. He took it. He recognized the article at once. It was the article talking about the Gringots break-in. Why couldn't this just leave him alone? Then, a thought occured to him. Hagrid had a deep understanding of animals. Harry could tell by his mountainman appearance, plus the recent conversation about Charlie. What if, by some miracle, he would know about the cerberus?

"Hey hagrid," Harry asked. "I heard a rumor goin' around that there was a cerberus at the school. Is this true?"

Hagrid froze. "How d'you lot know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah, Fluffy. Bought 'im off a chap down at the Hogshead pub as a puppy. I took him in, raised him, and gave him a home. Dumbledore wanted me to borrow him to protect the... I shouldn't have said that."

"Shouldn't have said what?" asked Ron.

"Never you lot mind," said Hagrid. "What's being protected is a top staff priority. This is between Dumbledore and Nicolass Flamel. Crap!"

"Nickolass Flamel?" asked Ron. "Who is he?"

"Look. You're meddalin' in things that ought not to be meddaled in. Keep your minds off of this."

Finally, tea was ready. Also, Hagrid presented a paper plate containing what looked like large cubes of some kind. Harry tentatively took one. It was a pastry. He bit it. It was delicious. He cleared the plate in about a minute.

"These are good!" exclaimed Ron. "You should've told us you could cook like that."

"Well, when you live on your own, ya have to learn certain skills," said Hagrid. "And you really mean that?"

"Can we have some for the road?" asked Hermione.

"Sure," said Hagrid.

After they left, the trio headed towards Gryfindor tower, their arms loaded with a large bag containing the little pastry things. Instantly, Harry stiffened. He thought he heard a noise. His wand was instantly in his hand.

"Sermo ut jedi magister," he heard. A ball of white light shot out of the darkness. Harry raised a shield to block it, but whomever shot the curse was more powerful than he was, for the curse just broke through the shield and hit him in the chest.

His friends gasped. Harry didn't feel anything. "The fuck?" he cried. "Show yourself, you will!" He clapped a hand to his mouth. A girl stepped out of the shadows. She grinned. "Malfoy told me to shoot a spell at you. He didn't tell me which one. Consider yourself lucky."

"Kill you, I will!" he shouted.

"No, you will not," she said, grinning. "Too powerful and strong, I am." She laughed and ran for the castle entrance.

"To hell, damn you Belladonna," Harry growled.

Terrible was, the remaining part of the day. Angry, Harry was. Comforting him, his friends did try. Worked, it did not.

"You gotta admit though," said Ron. "That chick is smoking. Too bad she's in fifth year."

"Hot, she is," said Harry, groaning at the terrible grammar. "Kill you, I will George lucas!"

"I cannot find a counter to that spell," said Hermione.

"What if she made it up?" asked Harry.

"Impossible," said Hermione. "Only someone with considerable power and proper training could dare to dream of making even that spell."

"What if we say it backwards?" said Ron.

"That's only a myth," said Hermione.

Tried, the two did anyway. Worked, it did not.

"We tried," said Ron.

"Do or do not," said Harry firmly, "There is no try. Fuck!"

Suffer like this, Harry had to do. Wear off, the curse did not. Hating this, Harry was.

AN: this chapter, I loved. For those who read the dross that was darkness vs. evil, two things:

1. work on it, I shall do no more.

2. return, starwars shall.

Well, may the fricking force be with you!


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Horrible, Harry felt. Talk like this, Harry had to do. Helped, it did not when laughed at him, Ron did. Found out, Neville did about the incident yesterday.

"Belladonna?" asked Neville. "Isn't she that chick who was sent to duel ya?"

"The same," said Harry.

Sad, Harry was. Finally, at the end of lunchtime, wore off, the spell did.

"Thank fricking god," muttered Harry. "I can speak normally again!"

"Think a little vengance is in order?" asked Ron.

"No way," said Harry. "She'd kick my ass."

"Scared?" taunted Neville.

"No, he's just being sensible," said Hermione.

"I'm with ya," said Ron. "She's damn scary."

"Oh yeah, almost forgot. Neville, do you know who Nickolass Flamel is?" asked Harry.

Neville shook his head. "I know the name, but that's about it."

"Reckon we oughta look?" asked Ron.

"You heard what Hagrid said," said Hermione. "Its none of our concern."

"She's right," said Harry, startling himself. A few weeks ago, those words would have never dared to be aimed at Hermione Granger. Funny how things change so quickly. "Sirius'll have my head quicker than that Cerberus if he finds out, which he will. I swear, that guy can sense when I did something wrong."

"Well, he's top aurror," said Neville. "What do you expect? Gran says that in his day, Sirius Black was a name to be feared by the dark side. He was one of the legends of the first war."

Harry shrugged.

Much to Ron's insistance, the four were spending time pouring over thick tomes in the library, looking for any mention of Nickolass Flamel. Greatest Wizards of the 20th Century didn't help. Neither did The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. The name refused to be discovered.

"Ok, I'm done," said Neville. "We've been at this for half an hour now."

"Hey, who's that?" asked Ron.

"That looks like Hagrid," said Hermione.

It was. The unmistakable bulk of Hagrid couldn't be mistaken anywhere. He appeared to have something behind his back. Then, he walked briskly through the shelves, finally passing where the four were clustered.

""'lo there, children," he said.

"Hey Hagrid," they chorused.

"What you upto?"

"Researchin'," said Ron.

hagrid's eyes glimmered with understanding. "You wouldn't happen to be lookin' up Nickolass Flamel, are ya?"

"Just for research," said Harry defensively.

"Like father like son," he muttered, walking away. "More than normal curiosity."

"Reckon what he was here for?" asked Ron.

The four stood up, intending on retracing what they saw of Hagrid's steps. They finally came across a shelf with several books missing.

"History of Dragons," Ron read as he browsed the books. "Species of Dragons, The Dragon's Influence in Muggle Mythology, oh shit: The Care and Feeding of Dragons. There was supposed to be two copies here. One of them's missing."

"You don't think?" asked Harry.

"No way," said Hermione.

"Taking care of a dragon's illegal," said Neville.

"Everyone knows that!" said Ron. "It was outlawed by the wizengamot a hell of a long time ago."

"We have to go down there," said Harry.

They did. When they came knocking on the door, there was a scuffling noise as Hagrid moved about inside.

"Jus' a minute!" he cried.

Finally, the door opened. They stepped inside. The place was hot. It had to be at least a hundred degrees fahrenheit in there.

"Blimy Hagrid!" gasped Ron. "Its hot as hell in here!"

"And why are all the blinds closed?" asked Hermione.

"Please," Hagrid pleaded, "Don't tell this to anyone if I tell ya."

"What?"

"See, I got a dragon egg," said Hagrid.

"How!" they chorused.

"I won it," he said. "Played cards with a bloak down at the Hogs Head Inn. He actually seemed to be glad to get rid of it. Criky, I always wanted to raise a dragon."

"Why!"

"Why not? Fascinating creatures, dragons. And Harry, ya can't say nothin'. I know 'bout your cockatrice."

"Good point," Harry muttered.

Vinconex, flying invisible around Harry's head with only Harry noticing, hissed inwardly in amusement.

"Promise you won't tell a soul?"

"We won't," said Ron.

Everyone else nodded, Hermione doing so reluctantly.

"Where's the egg?" asked Ron.

Hagrid went over to the corner of the room and lifted his flowery pink umbrella. He pointed it at a section of wall, which vanished. Behind it was a massive, roaring pit of fire, Inside it, black as night, black as beetles squirming in forest dirt, sat a large dragon egg. It was about the size of a man's head. It looked completely industructable.

Everyone stared. "How'd you do that?" gasped Ron.

"Magic," Hagrid said shortly, and left it at that.

"Damn," said Neville. "You gonna raise it?"

"This book here," said Hagrid, pulling out a thick tome that they all recognized, "tells ya step by step instructions. You're supposed to keep the egg in extremely hot temperatures, the hotter the better. They are supposed to be encased in fire to simulate their mother. I cannot wait!"

"Hagrid, don't you realize how dangerous this could be?" asked Hermione. "What are you going to do when he grows up? He's going to be bigger than this room. For God's sake, you have a wooden house!"

Hagrid shrugged. "Relax," he said. "Everything's been taken care of." With that, the discussion was closed, and the trio returned to the school.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was about a week until the four received a note from Hagrid. It happened at lunch.

A school owl had swooped in and delivered a note. It simply read: It's hatching.

"We've got to get down there!" hissedHarry.

"Are you crazy?" said Hermione. "Its almost till the end of lunch!"

"So? Next class is Herbology. Do you want to play with dragon dung or see a dragogn being born."

"Fine!" Hermione muttered.

The four made sure nobody was following them as they headed down towards Hagrid's hutt. They knocked several times on the door.

Instantly, Hagrid answered. His face was split into a wide grin. "Come on in!"

They did. The dragon's egg was now on the tabletop. It was hotter than ever, and the flames seemed to be twice as bright. The egg had several spiderweb cracks along the surface, but everything seemed to be fine. The five waited in silence, observing the egg carefully. A tiny piece broke off. Then another. Then another. A tiny claw poked tentatively through the surface, followed by another. Soon, a whole, tiny paw emerged. A thin, scaly leg followed it. The egg was slowly but surely breaking apart. All four legs were free. Next came the head. It was about the size of a thumb. Its eyes were midnight black, and its snout was long and pointy. Finally, the body slowly slithered out. It was beautiful in a way. The dragon was covered with midnight-black scales that ran from head to tail. Along the back, the scales made unusual patterns.

"That's a norwegion ridgeback!" breathed Ron.

"Correct," said Hagrid, beaming at the little dragon hatchling.

"Its, its beautiful!" breathed Hermione.

It was. After the dragon licked off its protective membrane did it stretch and look at them. Its wings were long, delicate and leathery. Its tail had spikes on the front, running all the way down to its lower back. It looked at Hagrid and sneezed. A tiny smokeball shot from its nostrils.

Hagrid went over to it and looked down at it. The dragon looked at it fearfully, but after encouragement from Hagrid, it wriggled under his hand. Well, under his finger.

"Shouldn't you name it?" asked Harry.

"I will," said Hagridl. "I think I'll name him Norbert."

Vinconex instantly made his presence known. With a flash of fire, he materialized.

The dragon hissed at him in warning. Vinconex didn't respond. Instead, it flew towards the dragon. Hagrid looked fearfully between Vinconex and Norbert, but all Vinconex did was look at it.

"Oo, this little guy's rare," hissed Vinconex into Harry's mind.

"What do you know about them?"

"Lots. I think I'll teach this little guy how to survive when he's old enough. Teach him how to fight, to fly, all that stuff. No one wants to fuck with a well-trained dragon."

Harry repeated Vinconex's offer to Hagrid, who nodded. Harry imagined a group of dark wizards running for their lives, being chased by an 8000 pound, fire breathing dragon.

AN: not much action these past few chapters, I know. hard as hell to right fillers. So, bare with me and you'll have the next few chapters by the end of this month.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

AN: Yeah, yeah, I know I promised a much earlier update, but, well, whatever. Not in the mood to go on for a thousand or so paragraphs detailing the reasons why I couldn't update sooner because I hate authors who feel the need to write really fricking long authors notes and the notes themselves, &offense very much intended).

Christmas was coming. The brutal Scottish weather caused students to huddle near their common room fires. Harry couldn't help thinking that the oh so brilliant founders could have put a warming spell of some kind that would activate at certain months so that he wouldn't have to see his own breath while walking down the corridors, or, even worse, while in the bitter cold of Snape's dungeon, not that the potions class needed to be worse than it already was.

"I'm sorry," drawled Malfoy one potion's class, "for those unfortunate people who don't have parents to go to for Christmas." He gave Harry a smirk. It was partly true. Now that Harry was going off to Hogwarts, Sirius's boss, the minister of magic, didn't see a reason why Sirius couldn't work full time now, so Sirius was working a 12-hour shift, and Remus and Tonks were going on a romantic trip to Venece, so they couldn't take care of Harry while Sirius was working.

Although Hogwarts wasn't exactly warm, the Christmas decorations were breathtaking. Every teacher, except for Snape and Quirrel, contributed something. Harry and the gang even saw a large tree with two enormous feet poking through the bottom.

"Need a hand, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"Nah, Im good. Thanks though."

Like an annoying cockroach that wouldn't go away, Malfoy sauntered up to them. "I see you're sticking around the gamekeeper. Fancy yourself being one, eh Weasley? What about that hut? Must be a palace compared to where you live, hmm?"

Ron's hands curled into tight fists until Snape strode by.

"Fighting is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley. You should do well to remember that."

"He was provoked, Severus," said Hagrid. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, rules are rules," replied Snape. "Five points from Gryfindor, and be greatful it isn't more."

"I'm gonna get him," Ron snarled after Snape and Malfoy left. "One of these days I'm gonna get him."

"Ah, ignore 'im. Bad blood the lot of 'em," said Hagrid dismissively. "C'mon, let's go see the decorations."

They finally arrived at the great hall. McGonagal came up to them. "Ah,thank you Hagrid. Put that last one over there." She pointed at a big gap. When the tree was put in place, Professor McGonagal conjured icicles that glowed green and red. Bows of holly streamed from Professor Flitwick's wand. Professor Sprout added a glowing star made entirely of tiny fairies on the top of the last tree. Even a crystal ball was placed by the divinations teacher, though this one showed the baby on the manger and the three wise men following the star.

"Harry!" shouted Vinconex in Harry's mind. "Norbert's flying! He's really flying! Though he still needs to learn how to control his fire."

"Wonder if Hagrid'll let me ride him when he grows up. I'd kill to ride a dragon!"

"You know, I've heard of an ancient myth of wizards who did ride dragons. They were very powerful. Ow! The little bugger burned my feather! I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Later Vinconex," Harry thought.

"Guys, we have a half hour before lunch. Let's hit the library," said Hermione.

"Oh yeah," said Ron.

"The library?" said Hagrid. "A bit keen, aren't ya?"

"Nah," said Neville. "We've been looking up any information on Nicolas Flamel."

Hagrid's cheerful expression morphed into one of annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell ya, you kids shouldn't meddle with things that ought not to be meddled in."

"No no, we're just interested is all," said Hermione..

"We've must've looked up a hundred books already," complained Ron.

"Unless you would drop a few little hints and save us the trouble?" suggested Harry.

"My mouth is sealed," said Hagrid. "You don't have to follow some book plot set out by some rich author, you know. Be four normal kids."

"I hope you're talking about J.K. Rowling," said Hermione. "She's one of my favorite authors."

"I'm more of a George Lucas fan," said Harry.

He's a movie director," said Hermione exasperatingly.

"So?" whined Harry. This continued as the quartet made their trek to the library, Ron and Neville having no idea what a movie was.

"Ok fine, not George Lucas. What about Flash Gordon?"

"All he is is a stupid football player or something, not even sure, who kills aliens. Yeah, he's a genius!"

"He wasn't a football player!"

"Ok, I have no idea what you two are talking about," said Ron.

"Ah, purebloods. Let's just say you bunch are missing out," declared Harry.

They finally reached the library. As expected, finding Nicolas Flamel was proving to be as difficult as ever. Hermione was methodically looking up books by subject. Ron and Neville were pulling books at random that looked cool. Harry was tiptoeing to the restricted section. This section was restricted for a reason. These books contained very advanced dark magic, stuff you here about in seventh year DADA. This is why you needed a signed note from a teacher in order for you to be allowed.

"Boy, what are you doing near there?" screeched Madame Pince, the formidable, stereotypical librarian.

"I, um, was…"

"You best be moving along now. Go on, boy. Scram!" She waved him out with her feather duster.

Wishing Harry was a little quicker at coming up with a story, he and the others left the library. They agreed not to ask Madame Pince on any info on Flamel. They knew she could tell them, but the risk of Snape finding out was too great, and they highly doubted that 15 points from Gryfindor and a detention would be the extent of their worries.

Once the holidays had started, however, Flamel was on the back of their minds, simply because Harry and Ron were having too much fun. Hermione had gone home to go skiing with her parents. Neville went home to his Gran. Ron stayed because the Weasleys that weren't at school went to the dragon preserves in Romania to see Ron's brother Charlie. Harry and Ron practically had the common room to themselves, they got the good chairs, there was no schoolwork to do, and there was no Malfoy and cronies to annoy them. Vinconex was now teaching Norbert basic aerial maneuvers, like the barrel role, the tail swipe, and the ever popular Kamikaze dive.

The two could be seen sitting around a table playing on Ron's battered chess set or playing exploding snap. They could not be seen taking some of Fred and George's secret dung bomb stash, throwing them at Filch's annoying cat Mrs. Norris, and watch as poor Fred and George got all the blame.

"Twas the night before Christmas and the castle was still

The halls and corridors were filled with a chill.

The Gryfindor common room was filled with laughter

As Percy the Prefect was running after

The poor Weasley twins who had recently filch-ed

His prefect badge from his own bed

And dear Ron and Harry were about to witness

That chess was Harry's primary weakness

AN: ok, its official, I suck at poetry


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Great scott! 1.21 giga watz of power, was I that insane in the future?"

"But you were using plutonium."

"Look kid, I am not sure about the future, but plutonium is a little bit hard to come by."

"Ok, wasn't this supposed to be a Harry Potter fan fiction, not a back to the future one?"

"Great scott Marty, you're right!"

Harry dazedly woke up, wondering where the hell that dream came from. Ron was already awake, apparently waiting for Harry to do the same.

"Merry Christmas mate," said Ron groggily.

"Merry Christmas," muttered Harry.

"Oh look, presents!" shouted Ron excitedly, seizing the first one of a pretty big pile and tearing off the rapper.

"Well, what did you expect, its Christmas! Everyone knows that commercialism and presents is the true meaning of Christmas, screw stupid things like family values."

Ron ignored him as he pulled out a book on the Chudley Cannons from Hermione. "Ah, she knows me," he said with a grin.

Harry unwrapped is own present, this one from Moony. It was a very handsome wristwatch with a little card taped to the strap.

Dear Prongslet

This watch doesn't just tell the time. Tap the face of the wall three times and it will show you the names and statuses of the people you care about the most. The screen adjusts as you find more people.

Harry grinned as he tapped the watch. Instantly, the hands and numerals disappeared to be replaced with tiny words. Where the numbers should be, there were words like Home, On Vacation, School, work, traveling, lost, Prison, Hospital,Mortal Peril, or R.I.P. Thankfully, none of the hands were on the last five words.

"Sweet! I got an Agrippa card! I always wanted one of these!" cried Ron.

Harry happily showed Ron the watch.

"We have a clock like that," said Ron. "Dad says Aurrors love those watches."

Harry unwrapped another present, this one from Hermione. It was a box of all kinds of magical sweets and another one with all kinds of muggle ones. Harry offered a kitkat to Ron, who looked at it a little oddly before accepting it. He grinned after he ate it.

"Damn those are good!" he declared.

Harry opened another present, this one from Hagrid. It was a handsome, hand-crafted wooden flute. He made a few thweeping sounds with it and placed it on the bed. Harry chuckled as he got a beautifully animated Pantera poster from Sirius, which came with its own sticking charm. He stuck it to the wall beside his bed. After receiving a book called "Quidditch through the ages" from Ron, he found a pretty lumpy package. He unwrapped it, and a hand-woven, red and gold sweater fell out. Harry showed it to Ron who groaned.

"You got a Weasley sweater too?" At Harry's questioning look, he continued. "Every year Mom makes us a sweater. And mine," he said angrily as he tore open his own lumpy package, "is always maroon!"

"But man, your mom is the queen of fudge," said Harry, who discovered a box filled with a generous amount of it. He smacked his lips with satisfaction. He studied his own sweater curiously. It had HP written in red and gold stiching, and a picture of a unicorn crushing a huge snake under his hooves was emblazoned under it.

"I'm not much of a fan of unicorns," Harry remarked, showing Ron the picture.

"But that's your crest," said Ron.

"Crest?"

"Come off it mate, you don't know your own family crest?"

"No?"

"Every old Pure-blood family has a crest. Malfoy's is a dragon. Your uncle Sirius's is… I think it's a constellation or something. They were big on astronomy."

Then, the door to the dorm opened and Fred and George showed up, Percy, looking quite annoyed, being dragged along with them. "Merry Christmas, lads!" the twins chorused. "Oy Ron! Why aren't you wearing your sweater?" asked one twin, Harry couldn't tell which.

"We're wearing ours," said another. Harry now noticed their sweaters. One had a giant letter F on it, the other a giant letter G.

"And Mom didn't have to put letters on them. We already know our names are Gred and Forge."

"I hate maroon," Ron muttered.

"They're lovely and warm," sang a twin.

"Harry! You got one too mate?"

Harry held his up in answer.

"And complete with the Potter crest. Mum must really like you Harry."

"Let's go. Percy, you're not sitting with the prefects tonight. Christmas is a time for family." The twins jauntily waved goodbye before frog marching Percy out of the dorm.

Christmas dinner was awesome. Huge, fat turkeys were accompanied with mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, cooked carrots, pumpkin bread, and an enormous vat of pudding. Harry grinned as he pulled the silver coin from his mouth. To top it off, there were crackers, and they weren't the cheesy muggle ones. These covered you in green and red smoke before spewing out chess sets, Santa hats, live mice, and, in Ron's unfortunate case, a long white beard that did not want to come off.

"Ah, another lovely Christmas dinner," declared Dumbledore. Since there were so few staying, the house tables were replaced by a little group of round tables, with Dumbledore forgoing his usual golden, throne-like chair for a simple wooden one like the others.

After the dinner was over, Harry was too stuffed to do anything. He headed up to the common room, plopped onto the chair, and, once again, got epically crushed in chess against Ron. Even later, when all of them went to bed, Harry couldn't sleep. The castle was virtually empty now. Sirius himself described the many secrets contained within the walls of Hogwarts. Harry had the invisibility cloak somewhere in his trunk. He had the curiosity to explore. That was all he needed.

Taking care not to make any noise, he slowly and silently got out of bed. He crept towards his trunk and opened it. He grinned as he got the cloak. He closed the trunk and wrapped it around his body. He strapped his trusty wand holster to his arm. He smirked as he got out of the dorm, gently closing the door behind him, preying to God they weren't squeaky. He crept down the stairs, crossed the common room, slowly opened the portrait hole, and got out.

"Who's there?" grumbled the fat lady.

Harry instantly started his exploration of the castle. He decided to head down some stairs, seeing as all the doors he saw were closed. He carefully mapped out where he was walking in his head as he wandered the many corridors. He moved down another set of stairs, almost swearing out loud as they started to move. Now, he was in a different area of the castle entirely, although he thought he could see the entrance to the library somewhere near. He grinned to himself. The restricted section had become not so restricted anymore.

Thanking the caretakers of Hogwarts for keeping the door hinges well-oiled, he padded through the double doors of the library. He groped around for a lamp. He found one, and, after a muttered incendio charm, lit it up. He wandered down the aisles until he found the entrance to the restricted section.

Harry tried his hardest to find anything on Flamel. Some of the books had titles in languages he couldn't understand. Others had no title at all. One had a dark stain on it that looked a lot like blood. Harry shuddered violently then tore his gaze from it. Then, he spotted a large, impressive-looking tome. He took it and flipped it opened. A loud, blood-curtling shriek eminated from it. Harry quickly snapped it shut and dropped it. He hastily dropped the lamp, which was extinguished immediately.

He ran for it. He pelted out of the library, down some corridors, and finally crashed into a suit of armor. He knew there was a suit of armor near the kitchens, but the kitchens were far below the library. Quiet as a mouse, he hid behind the suit of armor, his cloak securely wrapped around him.

Then, he heard the greasy voice of Filch not far ahead. "Professor, I found this in the restricted section. Its still hot."

"Someone has been wandering around at night. They couldn't have gone far. We'll catch them." To Harry's gut-wrenching horror, it was Snape who replied.

He quietly slipped out from behind the suit of armor, then listened to the direction of the footsteps of the two men. They grew fainter and fainter. He grinned, then groped the walls. He felt a door that was slightly ajar. He squeezed through it, then surveyed his surroundings.

It was an unused classroom. Desks and chairs were piled up on one wall. A wastebasket squatted somewhere in the back corner. However, the entire room was dominated by a magnificent, full-length mirror in a guilded frame. It had an inscription carved in some weird language: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. He did not know what the inscription meant, but he didn't really care. What was reflected in the mirror took his breath away. There he was standing, unruly black hair, emerald green eyes, standing at about 150 cm, with all his clothing on, except, most notably, the cloak. However, he wasn't the only one being reflected. He saw himself surrounded by people. To his left was a tall, handsome man with hair exactly like his, but with hazel eyes. To his right was a curvaceous redhead with eyes like his. They each had a hand on Harry's shoulder, and they were smiling with pure delight.

There were other people too, people that he'd never seen before. Sirius had his arm around the man to his left. A tall woman who had Neville's round face had an arm around the woman on Harry's right.

Harry looked around. There was nobody except for him, but the mirror said otherwise. Could this mirror reflect him, even though he was invisible? Was this room full of invisible people? But no, that was impossible. He felt behind him. Air. Besides,he glanced at his watch after tapping it three times. Sirius's hand was on Home. And what about the people to the left and right of him? Were they, maybe, his parents? His real, living parents? Could this room reflect dead people? But Sirius wasn't dead. What was this mirror? He couldn't take his eyes away from it. He tentatively raised his hand. His reflection did the same.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

The reflections on his left and right both smiled at him, his dad playfully messing his reflection's hair. He stepped closer, his hands outstretched. Maybe it was a portal of some kind? His hands came into contact with the glass of the mirror. What the hell was this thing?

AN: Ok, I know I said I despise really long author's notes, but I promise this'll be my first and last one. You don't have to read this, its just something I've been meaning to ask? Why in the blue fuck are there slash stories with Harry and Snape? Worst of all, why Harry and Voldy? Alright, its math lesson. The markers on Lily and James' grave say birthdate 1960. In the memory in Harry's 5th year, Snape and the two were taking their OWLS, so Snape has to logically be around their age. Now, when Harry was born on 1980, Snape had to be around 20 years older. Buttfucking a guy 20 years older? I'm not homophobic but still, that's just fricking sick. And what about Voldy? If you ignore the fact that since Tom Riddle's diary had a memory 50 years ago from 1992, when Tom was 16, and the fact that would make him about 54 years Harry's senior, the dude blew away his parents! Now, I don't know about any of you but even if I was gay, I wouldn't fuck a guy who fricking killed my own parents. So, if any of you people find yourselves disagreeing with me, check yourself to the nearest fricking mental hospital and accept your roles as freaks of nature!

This has been a public service announcement from Serpentine097. Live long and prosper.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Finding your way back to your bedroom in an ancient castle with moving staircases in the dead of night is really, really hard. Harry had to rely on his night vision, which thankfully was boosted because of his bond with Vinconex. However, it was still pretty hard, and he couldn't risk casting any sort of light. Eventually, he made it back to Gryfindor Tower. The fat lady was rudely awakened by an invisible person whispering the password and tapping her portrait on her head. She grudgingly opened, still half-asleep. Harry clambered through and padded up the staircase.

He checked his watch. 12:10 AM. He had been gone for almost 2 hours. He decided to call it a night. He crawled into bed and passed out, not even bothering to take off his cloak.

The next morning, He awoke. Ron, the only other person in the dorm, was grabbing his toothbrush.

Harry remembered he still had his cloak partly wrapped around him. He hastily took it off and hid it under his pillow. Thankfully, Ron didn't notice.

"Morning Ron," Harry muttered, stretching.

""Where were you last night?" asked Ron.

"Sleeping?" said Harry.

"I wasn't yet asleep when you got up, mate. I was just pretending to see what you were doing."

Damn, Harry thought. "I thought that I could find something on Flamel in the restriction section if I went in there invisible."

"Did you find anything?"

"No, but I found something loads better."

"What?"

"See, I was opening this one book, right? And it screamed at me, so I dropped it and ran for it. Filch heard it and found the lamp I took. He and snape were looking for me so I tried to find a hiding spot. And there was this classroom, right? Probably hasn't been used in years. But there was this huge mirror with a weird inscription on it."

"I'm getting bored already," muttered Ron.

"Shut up and listen," snapped Harry. "Anyway I was looking at it, and I was still hidden in my cloak, and it reflected me. The thing reflected me. And other people too. My parents, Sirius, and loads of other people I've never met. This one woman looked like Neville."

"Really?"

"Look man, tonight I'll show ya. It's the coolest thing ever."

"This better be good," said Ron.

True to his word, Harry and Ron waited till 11:- PM, then they snuck out under the cloak. Harry remembered where to go, and he found it. The mirror was in its original place, still untouched.

"Now you look in it," said Harry. "Go on."

"I, I don't' see anything," said Ron. "Wait wait! I do, but it's me."

"Do you see my parents?" asked Harry.

"No, I don't, but damn I look good! And, I'm holding the Quidditch cup. I'm quidditch captain too! And I'm kissing Her… never mind."

"Who were you kissing?" asked Harry slyly.

"No one," hissed Ron. "But, do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"Doubt it," said Harry. "My parents are dead, remember? Kind of hard to get back up from that."

Then, they froze. They heard the most threatening sound ever, a sound that set chills down their backs, a sound that made them rooted to the spot. Mew!

"We're screwed!" hissed Harry. "We shouldn't been talking that loud!"

"That's Filch's cat!" hissed Ron.

"Gee, I didn't know, I thought that was Garfield!"

"Who's Garfield?"

"Shut up and run like hell!" hissed Harry.

The two ran as fast as they could away from the classroom, finally making it back to the Gryfindor tower.

"That was so fricking close," panted Harry when they made it back.

"Tell me about it," panted Ron, grabbing his stomach.

"I don't know about you, though, but I'm going back there tomorrow," said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" hissed Ron. "We almost got busted because of that."

"Look, mate, I don't know about you, but I kind of like seeing my dead parents who I rarely get to see anymore," retorted Harry.

"Fine, but I'm not coming with you," said Ron.

Yet again, Harry found himself in front of the Mirror of Erised. "Mom, Dad, other people," he said. "I'm back."

Mom and Dad put an arm around Harry's shoulder, and their faces lit up like suns. Sirius was beaming with pure delight, something Harry had rarely ever seen him do.

"Back again, Harry?" said a voice. Harry spun around. Albus Dumbledore was wearing a flowing nightgown, his ever present half-moon spectacles were there.

"Professor, I, I,"

"can explain why I am looking at the Mirror of Erised?" finished Dumbledore.

"I didn't mean to, sir, I,"

"Relax, Harry. Dreams are a good way to escape the pain of reality. However, you cannot dwell on them too deeply. Harry do you have any idea what this mirror does?"

"No," said Harry.

"Let me give you a hint. When you stand before this magnificent mirror, you see yourself with your parents, Sirius Black, and a host of other people you don't even know. They were most likely friends of your parents, alive and dead. You, who have never known your parents, still have a hidden longing to get to know them, and see your godfather truly happy with his old comrades."

"Sir,"

"Young Ronald Weasley, who feels overshadowed by his brothers and their outstanding accomplishments, whishes to surpass them all, and make a name for himself, to prove his worth."

"Sir, how did you even know about that?"

"I do not need invisibility cloaks to be unseen, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Oh yeah, forgot the whole order of Merlin, first class and chief warlock thing."

Dumbledore chuckled. "So, now can you tell me what this mirror truly shows?"

"It shows us… what we want… whatever we want," answered Harry.

"Yes, and no," said Dumbledore. "This mirror shows the deepest and most desperate desire of our hearts." He took out his wand and waved it at the inscription. The letters rearranged themselves and now read: Ishow no tyo urfa cebu tyo urhe arts desire. "Stronger men than you have gazed into this mirror. Many have wasted before it, going mad with desire. This mirror is a lie, Harry. It neither shows truth or wisdom. I do not want you returning to it. In any event this mirror will be moved. I do not want you looking for it, Harry. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

"Good. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Harry. Remember that."

"Sir?" said Harry. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

With all sincerity, Dumbledore replied, "I see myself holding a pair of knitted woolen socks. I always ask for them for Christmas or my birthday, but people seem to think I require priceless tomes or ancient scrolls. God forbid I get a pair of woolen socks."

Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore was lying, but then again, it was a deeply personal question. Then again, the old coot knew what his and Ron's desire was.

Harry tried very hard to not go back to the mirror; he really did. However, nightmares started plaguing him now.

"Why aren't you coming, son?" his dad would ask.

"Come to us, Harry dear," his mom said.

"Either you get your butt over here or I'm making you drop down and give me 50!" Sirius barked.

Then, he would only see a blinding flash of green light, and then it would be over. This had been happening night after night. He was getting sick of it. He needed to see his parents, just one more time. However, the mirror wasn't there. Maybe he would ask Dumbledore?

The last day of the Christmas break, Harry had gotten directions from Percy on how to get to the headmaster's office, along with the password. When asked why, Harry had said it was personal. He could tell that wasn't enough for Percy, but he wouldn't ask questions if Harry told him no lies.

"Lemon drops," Harry said to the gargoyle. He stared in awe at the spiral escalator that greeted him. He stepped onto the first step and allowed it to carry him to the top of the tower. He got off and approached the door. He knocked on the gryffon-shaped knocker, timidly asking, "May I come in, sir?"

"Enter, Harry," said Dumbledore. Harry opened the door, and gasped. He had never really seen any of the teacher's offices, but he concluded none of them could beat this one. A mahogany desk stood proudly in the middle, two comfy chairs facing each other. Little instruments whirred and spun; Harry couldn't stop gazing at them. Portraits of snoring people lined the walls. What amazed him the most was the magnificent bird on a golden perch. Its plumage was scarlet red. It looked a little like Vinconex, though whereas Vinconex looked fierce and majestic, like a panther on the hunt, this bird looked more docile and friendly.

"Vinconex! Get over here. I found a phoenix!" Harry practically shouted in his mind.

Instantly, a picture of a fat rabbit filled his vision. "I was eating that. Never interrupt me during my breakfast again!"

"Sheesh, someone's not a morning bird."

"I'll be there in a flash, kid."

"Your office is amazing, sir," Harry said.

"While I do agree, I am pretty sure that admiring the decor of the headmaster's office wasn't your plan."

"You're right, sir," said Harry. "I came to talk to you about the mirror." Vinconex instantly made his presence known with a flash of black fire. The phoenix took one look at him and rose from its perch, trilling with pure happiness.

"I see Phawks has made a new friend," Dumbledore said, amused.

"Vinconex, old friend. I haven't seen you in centuries!"

"Phawks! Haven't changed a bit have ya you fluffball?" Vinconex and Phawkes hugged each other, well, more like cuffed each other with their wings but… a show of brotherly affection, how bout that. The two instantly disappeared in a flash of white fire.

"And now, your cockatrice has stolen my phoenix," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Now, back to business. What did I expressly tell you about that mirror, Harry?"

"I know, I know, sir. But… I can't sleep. I keep having nightmares. My parents want me there. Everyone does. I just want to see them one more time! Please!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, what you see in that mirror is not real. This mirror has sent the strongest of men into madness and despair. On another note, would your parents truly want you to cling on to them? Look at what you have now. Yes, your parents might be gone, but they died to protect you. They made the ultimate sacrifice for you. And has Sirius ever been a bad parent, Harry?"

"I guess not," said Harry.

"Sirius has taken you in, treated you like the son he never had, gave you the food from his table, the knowledge he had acquired over the years, and most importantly, the unyielding, unrelenting, unwavering love of a father towards his son. He is highly proud of you, Harry. I know it may sound harsh, but it could have been much worse. You could have been raised by an abusive aunt and uncle, your bedroom being some old cupboard under the stairs. You could have been in an orphanage. You are one of the lucky ones, who may not have a mom to tuck you in at night, but you have a father to look upto and a man you can be proud of. And, if I do say so myself, you have turned out to be a handsome, strapping young lad. In a couple of years, the girls will be tearing you apart."

"Thanks, sir," said Harry.

Dumbledore stood up and went towards a wooden cabinet. He opened a drawer, coming back with a large jug and a small vile. "This is a dreamless sleep potion. If you start to have nightmares again, simply fill this vile from the jug. However, I do warn you, do not rely heavily on this potion. It can be very addicting, and when it runs out, you may find your nightmares will increase 10-fold."

"Thank you, professor," said Harry, taking the vile and jug from him.

Meanwhile…

Phawkes and Vinconex were in perhaps the deepest, most secluded part of the forest. It was so far out that even the castle was just a speck in the distance.

"This is where I train the norwegion ridgeback," said Vinconex.

"Playing with dragons again, I see?" commented Phawkes.

"You bet," said Vinconex. "I make sure we can't be seen by anyone. This place is just perfect for that. We fly near the trees as an added precaution."

"You know, this will not last long," said Phawkes. "That dragon will only grow and grow."

"Yes, but the stupid half-giant does not want to give it up. He lives in a wooden house, which does not make this any better."

"Ah, do you mean Hagrid?"

"Yeah."

"He is not as stupid as you think. He has a special affinity towards animals, especially magical creatures."

"Well, his affinity with magical creatures is gonna either burn down his house or get him into prison, probably both. Anyway, enough about me. How'd you end up with yee old wizard?"

"Oh, come on, you really oughta know. He's the chief warlock of the wizengamot."

"Oh, yeah, forgot."

"Chief warlocks are seen as the wisest in the wizarding world, andthey will be chosen by a familiar."

"I've never understood that part. I'm bonded with scarhead, and so far the world's pretty ok with it. I mean, I try to hide myself to not attract too much attention, but so far the school's taken it well."

"A matter of circumstance, probably. I mean, you two just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And no ministry in the world can interfere with magical law, lest their magic be painfully stripped from them for the rest of their lives."

"Then he should consider himself very lucky."

"Yes, Vinconex, very lucky. He has the most sarcastic bird on the face of the earth as a familiar, oh praise the heavens."

"So, it makes a lot of sense to use sarcasm as a means to insult my sarcasm?"

"Perhaps. But sense is a very relative term. What does one truly view as making sense? Sense is an abstract concept, suited to the mind of the individual. However, in this mundane plane of reality, yes, I suppose—"

"I really, really hate it when you go all Tibetan Dhalai Lama on me. It hurts my head!"

"Ah, pain. What is pain but a sensation created by the mind. If you would learn to meditate, pain would not exist."

"If you don't learn how to go two full paragraphs without talking like that, you will no longer exist, immortal or not immortal."

"Harsh, brother Vinconex. One must be kind to your fellow man."

Vinconex's feathers were smoking now, a cockatrice translation for a pounding headache caused by annoyance. "Dude, I swear…"

"Come on, its always funny to see you smoke like that! Besides, what do you expect? I was raised by the 2nd dhalai lama for about several centuries, moving onto the subsequent dhalai llama."

"I highly doubt the truth in that," said Vinconex.

"Ah, truth and lies. A lie is merely a fascinating story, until the truth ruins it."

"Ok, now that quote I like."

"Well, it loses its humor after a while."

"Bullshit. You're scared of little old me, aren't ya?"

"You wish, birdbrain."

"Who you calling birdbrain?"

"So Dumbledore helped you?" said Ron.

Harry had come out of Dumbledore's office, feeling very content. He had a good feeling about the jug of potion Dumbledore had given to him. He had shown the potion to Ron, who knew of his nightmares.

"Yup," said Harry. "This potioon's supposed to kill dreams."

"Dreamless sleep," said Ron. "That stuff can be addicting."

"Yeah, Dumbledore said the same thing."

And the potion did help. The nightmares ended, Harry got better sleep, and he was able to enjoy the rest of his holliday.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Like all good things, Christmas season came to an end. The second term, unfortunately, began. This was introduced by more homework than acceptable and more quidditch practices.

"You know," Harry said one day, "you'd think Wood'll, I dunno, let us stay indoors instead of freezing our butts off out there?"

This was after a particularly grueling practice session to prepare for an upcoming game with Hufflepuff.

"Well," said Fred, or George, Harry wasn't sure which, "nothing, and I mean nothing, matters to Wood more than quidditch."

"I remember one year," said Angelina, "Slytherins beat us 320-170 in the finals. The snitch was literally right next to our seeker's ear but he didn't see it. Wood was pissed. Poor Archie was scared out of his mind. He wasn't a bad seeker though."

"Ah, I remember Archie," mused a twin. "Good ole' chap… would always accept our Tabasco sauce, sausage and cheese sandwiches."

"He didn't accept the Tabasco," said Katy.

"Touché," said another twin.

"The funny thing was," said Alicia, "Wood wasn't even captain at the time."

"I would've never kicked Archie off the team," said Wood.

"You were damn near about to literally kick him out of the team," mused Katy.

"Well, back to the present," said Wood, "I have bad news."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"Snape's reffing the Hufflepuff match."

"We're fucked," Harry declared.

"Harry's right," said a twin. "Snape's gonna award Hufflepuff a penalty every chance he gets."

"Which is why we have to play like the goody two shoes we're supposed to be. That means no blitzing the chasers, Fred and George!"

"Aww, that's our best move!"

"I know," Wood sighed. "But we have to keep on our guard."

Harry was worried too, but he was worried for a whole other reason. He was downplaying it to the other guys when he said Snape was just the mean teacher you find in all schools. Yeah, Sirius might have laid into Snape a threat that would make grown war vets cry; God knows Harry could be very intimidated by him sometimes. However, Snape was a Slytherin, and Slytherins were crafty. It didn't matter if Sirius would have Snape's head on a pike; Harry would already turn from Quidditch player to Quidditch fatality. Ah man, how was he gonna tell this to the guys?

"Guys," said Harry later on, "um, I have a little bit of bad news."

"What is it?" asked Neville.

"Um, Snape is, um, reffing the next match."

"He's what!" shrieked Hermione. People gave her an annoyed glance.

"Don't play," said Ron.

"Say you broke your leg," said Neville.

"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"Ron!" said Hermione with exasperation.

"Ah, come on. How could he penalize me? Unless I kamikaze dive the keeper,it'd be pretty hard."

"Would you forget about your stupid quidditch?" yelled Hermione. "He is going to kill you!"

"Tell Sirius to come down here," said Ron.

"No, he has to work."

"Well," said Neville, "let's see: desk job at the ministry or protecting the life of your godson… what to choose… what to choose…"

"Ok, I'm the only one who can be sarcastic," said Harry.

"That is not the point!" said Hermione.

"Well, the team needs me," said Harry feebly.

"Would you forget about your stupid quidditch?" yelled Hermione. "He is going to kill you!"

"Um, didn't you already say that?" Harry asked.

"It isn't less true," stated Hermione flatly.

"Look," said Harry. "I appreciate it and all, but can't you see this is exactly what Snape wants? He wants me to puss out and not play. I can't give him the satisfaction."

"That doesn't answer the most important question," said Neville. "What we gonna do about Snape?"

"Don't know," said Ron. "No offense mate, but I don't think you'd stand a chance against Snape. I know that those banishing charms back on the train are pretty damn advanced, but still, Snape kinda beats you by 20 years of experience."

"None taken," said Harry.

"Although, that ice ball spell was pretty good," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I've never met a person who could do that in his first try."

"So, I should ice ball and banish Snape to death?" asked Harry.

"Don't worry," said Neville. "We got your back on this one. I'll do more than set his robe on fire this time around."

"Here, here!" said Ron.

The game day arrived, and like any other game, it started out with one of Wood's eon-long pep talks.

"Alright, guys, I know the odds are stacked against us, but dammit we'll show that greasy git the reason why we got sorted into Gryfindor!"

"Here, here!" shouted the team. Heh, guess it wasn't that long of a pep talk after all. The team grabbed their brooms and marched out of the changing rooms. Harry's heart soared at the sight of the silver-bearded smiling face of Albus Dumbledore, sitting in the teacher's box. Snape wouldn't dare to lay a finger on him. You'd have to have really big stones to mess with Albus Dumbledore.

Earlier that day, Ron, Hermione and Neville were hurridly casting curses and counter curses at each other to practice.

"Now remember," said Hermione. "Its Locomotor Mortis."

"We know," chorused the other two.

They made sure they didn't forget their wands before heading out to the stands. Like an annoying bug that refused to be swatted, Malfoy sauntered up to them, his usual huge lapdogs not far behind.

"You know, I think I know the reason behind Gryfindor team selections," he said.

"Me too," said Ron. "It's on actual talent, unlike yours."

"Clever," said Malfoy. "It's the people they feel sorry for. We have the Weasleys who are unspeakably poor. Then we have Potter. Of course, everyone feels sorry for Scarhead."

At this point, the teams were both taking to the skies. Harry circled high above the pitch, his eyes darting here and there.

"Watch it Malfoy. Soon your daddy'll get himself into trouble even money can't magically get him out of," spat Neville.

"At least my parents are still sane," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously.

Neville's blood was pounding in his ears. Hermione, not fully understanding what was common knowledge among pure-blooded families, was blank. Ron stepped forward, his fists raised.

Meanwhile, Fred accidentally crashed into one of the chasers. Hufflepuff was awarded a penalty, of course. However, Harry could see the snitch clearly now.

"That was low, Malfoy," Ron hissed. "You make me sick."

Neville lashed out with his fist, connecting painfully with Malfoy's jaw. Malfoy landed on a heap onto the floor of the bleachers. Instantly, Crabbe, Goyle and Bullstrode rushed towards them. Ron received a massive sucker punch from Goyle that sent his body crashing on top of the bleachers. He stood up, and, from his increased vantage point, kicked Goyle square in the face, causing his body to lean backward and fall down the bleachers, knocking some people over. Neville had to deal with Bullstrode and Crabbe. Bullstrode was a massive gorilla with long hair. Her body slammed into Neville, sending him toppling backwards and knocking the wind out of him. Neville quickly stood up on the bleacher higher up, and repeated what Ron did to Goyle.

Meanwhile, Harry was on the hunt, dodging bludgers and weaving through spectator stands. The other seeker didn't have the slightest clue of where the Snitch was. Finally, he won. He rushed towards the snitch, left arm outstretched. His fingers closed triumphantly around the little golden ball. He raised his fist to the immense approval of the crowd.

Ron and Neville were oblivious. Ron now was dealing with Crabbe and Goyle, having to climb higher up to avoid their blows. They were smart enough to not stay close to his feet. However, Bullstrode wasn't. The kick Neville through landed true, and she fell down some bleachers, just as Goyle did.

"Guys!" Hermione shrieked. "Would you quit fighting? We won! We're in the lead!"

They ceased fighting at once. Ron had bruises on his back from falling on the bleachers. His nose was raining blood. Neville wasn't doing any better. Bullstrode's relatively huge body caused Neville to land on his back with a lot of force.

"We won, you guys!" Hermione squealed.

"That was so short though!" said Ron, wiping his face.

Harry and the team were returning to the locker rooms, grinning from ear to ear.

"Brilliant catch, mate," said Fred, clapping Harry hard on the back.

"Keep up that good performance Potter, and the cup is ours!" declared Wood.

The team changed back into their school robes and headed out. As they approached the school, Harry caught something out of the corner of his eye. It looked like a tall, thin shape was swiftly moving towards the forbidden forest. He strained his eyes to get a better look. He could make out greasy black hair with his keen night vision.

"Guys," said Harry. "I'll catch up with you later, ok?"

"You sure?" asked Wood.

Harry nodded. The others shrugged and walked towards the entrance. Harry made sure Snape didn't notice him, not that he could. Snape was almost to the edge of the forbidden forest. No way could he see Harry. Harry silently mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground, trailing Snape from a high altitude. Snape finally stopped at a dark, shadowy clearing in the forest, tapping his foot impatiently. Harry found a tall tree. Landing on a higher branch, he surveyed Snape, pacing back and forth. Suddenly, someone else stepped into Harry's view.

". . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I-"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you-"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "-your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't-"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

AN: Yeah, yeah, what you recognized was taken from HPSS, fuck off copyright law.

"Oy! Potter!" Harry nearly fell out of the tree with surprise. He rubbed his head.

"What the hell do you want, Vinconex!" growled Harry in his mind.

"Your three stewges are looking for ya. Plus there's a party in Gryfindor Tower in your honor. Get your scrawny ass to Gryfindor tower now!"

"Um, I'm kind of in the middle of something here," Harry replied.

"Just flame back; Quirelle won't notice."

"How'd you… never mind. Flame back?"

"Yeah, flame back. Remember? Flame travel? You could do that after you had the godly fortune of adopting me as your dearly bonded familiar? Don't you dare tell me you forgot about that!"

"Um, I did," replied Harry sheepishly.

"Kids these days," muttered Vinconex. "Just concentrate on the entrance to Gryfindor Tower with your will alone."

Harry did as he was told. He suddenly felt warmth all over his body. In literally the next instant after, he was now in front of the tower. Thank God nobody saw him. He carried his broom on his shoulder and whispered the password to a quite startled fat lady. The portrait swung open. He clambered inside, and he was body slammed by Hermione who glared at him. Indeed, there was a huge celebration in the works. Food was laid out, drinks were being poured, and everyone cheered at the sight of Harry.

"We were worried sick!" she said, still glaring at him accusingly.

"I had to do something!" Harry said, putting his hands up to shoulder height. His broom clattered to the floor. "Let's get out of here and I'll tell you."

Ron picked up the broom and looked at it. "There's some leaves stuck in the twigs," he said. "Why are there leaves stuck in the twigs?"

Harry sighed, motioning towards the portrait.

"But the party!" whined Neville.

"We'll be back later!" said Harry with exasperation. To the common room he said, "I'll be back in a bit just need help polishing this thing." He pointed at the broom.

They finally found an empty classroom. "I was following Snape," Harry whispered, recounting what happened after he stayed behind.

"The sorcerer's stone?" asked Hermione. "I know I've heard about it."

"What is it?" asked Neville.

"I don't know," said Hermione.

"You don't know?" asked Harry. "You actually don't know something? It's a sign of the apocalypse!"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione. "What's more important is what Snape was asking Quirelle."

"What, a bit of hocus-pocus?" asked Ron. "Not sure what that means."

"You three are really thick sometimes," said Hermione. "Can't you see? Snape wants to steal something, but its protected by spells. He just wants to know what spell Quirelle put on it."

"So, basically, Snape's an evil potions teacher, a biased prick, and a criminal mastermind?" asked Harry.

"Well, he's a teacher. I wouldn't go far as to call him, well, that," said Hermione.

"Call him what?" asked Harry.

"A biased prick," muttered Hermione.

"Its true, and you know it," said Neville.

"We're getting off topic !" said Hermione with exasperation.

"Well, if Quirelle is the only thing that's stopping Snape," said Ron, "whatever it is Snape wants will be his by the end of the week."

"You sure you don't know what a sorcerer's stone is?" asked Harry.

"I've read about it somewhere, but I can't remember what it is," said Hermione.

"Well, who cares," said Neville. "Party! Party! Party! Now!

They returned to the celebrations to the immense approval of the Gryfindors.

"Who's up for spin the bottle!" called Harry.

Some of the pure-bloods stared in confusion at him.

"Aye!" roared Seamus, pumping his fist.

"To the pure-bloods, rules are simple," said Harry. "Spin the bottle, and kiss whomever it points to. No matter who it points to."

"That's not how you play it," hissed Hermione.

"Its how Sirius used to play it," whispered Harry.

First up was Harry. His bottle landed on Lavender who blushed.

"Come on Potter!" yelled George or Fred, not sure which yet. They took up the chant.

Harry leaned forward. Lavender smiled at him as their lips met. Everyone wolf whistled. The game picked up with Hermione kissing Ron, Neville kissing Parvati, George kissing Fred who glared at him with murder in his eyes.

The rest of the night consisted of food, a little dancing, poker and Never-Have-I-Ever with butterbeer. Percy demanded that the party stop. All he got in response was a wedgy spell from Harry. Everyone, especially the weasleys, burst out in laughter. Even Hermione giggled a little. At around 1:30 or so, the last few people finally went upstairs to sleep, Harry one of them.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Next morning, the trio headed down to breakfast. Hermione had arrived with a huge book that probably was at least 700 pages.

"I just remembered," she said, plopping the book on the table, "about this book. I picked it up a few weeks ago for some light reading."

Ron leafed through the huge amount of pages. "This is light reading?" He received a death stare in response.

She flipped pages until she found the one she wanted.

Harry read the header.

**The Sorcerer's Stone**

Many thought it a myth, an old wives tale. For centuries, many people wondered as to how the Sorcerer's stone could be made. A notable alchemist, historian and scholar, Nickolas Flamel discovered the answer. This stone, when properly made, has the uncanny ability to transmute even the most impurity of metals into pure gold. Its most astonishing property is that it contains a key ingredient in the elixir of life, which can render the drinker incapable of aging. In fact, Nickolas will soon celebrate his 665th birthday with his loving wife, Paranel. Nickolas now enjoys a quiet life, location unknown. It is widely believed that his last apprentice was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"We've got to tell Hagrid," said Harry.

"Really?" asked Hermione. "What good's it gonna do? He'll know we know about the sorcerer's stone, which will put us in trouble. Worst of all, Snape'll find out and I don't think what he'll do to us involves docking house points."

"Finally you believe he's evil," muttered Ron.

"Well, excuse me if I respect authority," snapped Hermione.

"Sirius always says the power any person has is the power we let him have," said harry.

Hermione just shrugged.

They clearly underestimated Quirelle. The quartette would glue their ears to the door of the third-floor corridor, making sure Fluffy was contentedly growling his three heads off, with no noticeable change. Snape's temper hadn't improved in the slightest. In fact, he was getting more evil by the day. Quirelle continued to be his nervous, stuttering self, sometimes stuttering and tripping over his words more than usual. He also seemed to be getting paler and losing weight. Even the stone was pushed in the back of their minds, for an evil even greater than Voldemort was on the rise.

"We have to study for exams!" said Hermione for the millionth time.

"They're 10 weeks away, Hermione," groaned Harry. "We're not all bookworms."

"Don't you realize that if you don't pass these exams you can't go to the next year?" she shot back. "I should've studied months ago. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"A life?" suggested Neville.

"I want to take some of those plants you so love and strangle you with them," said Hermione.

"Ok, before it's a death match between Poindexter and Nature lover," began Harry, "why don't we head over to the library and study a bit, then go down to Hagrids? I really wanna see how huge that dragon is."

"How Hagrid hasn't got caught is beyond me," said Ron.

Norbert was huge. He had to have his own clearing in the forest. It was getting harder and harder for Vinconex to train him now. He was as big as a full-grown golden retriever, though not as friendly.

"He's a beauty!" remarked Vinconex. They all were grouped in the clearing. Norbert was pacing back and forth, Hagrid feeding him two dead chickens.

"That thing's a beauty?" asked Harry.

"Please," said Vinconex. "The deadliest thing in this room is currently talking to you. I could easily kill all of you and be preening my feathers the second after."

"You're a real nice pal, Vinconex," said Harry dryly.

"C'mon Ron, why don't ya feed him?" suggested Hagrid. "Let's see if Charlie's gift with animals runs in the family?"

"Um, I'd rather not," said Ron, backing away. The other three humans stepped back, leaving Ron in the front.

"Come on, Ronn," said Harry. "He won't bite. Hard. And if he does, it'll probably not hurt that much. Don't they have numbing poison in their fangs?"

"For an eleven-year-old you can be really scary sometimes," remarked Hermione.

"I try," said Harry, grinning.

"Shut up, Harry!" said Ron.

"Ah, don't listen to 'im," said Hagrid. He gave Ron a dead chicken. Ron gingerly accepted. He stepped forward and, with his two hands, held out the chicken for Norbert, who eagerly grabbed it, along with a bit of Ron's finger.

"Ow!" he yelled.

"Aranos damn it, I thought I taught him better," said Vinconex, flying over to Ron. "Tell him to hold out his hand."

"Hold out your hand," said Harry.

Ron did so. Vinconex started to cry over Ron's wound. The cut closed up and Ron grinned happily.

"He should still see a nurse," said Vinconex.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"I'm a cockatrice, dumbass. My tears aren't as powerful as a phoenix's. I could heal his wound at best, which should prevent infection. As to the poison, it should be checked out."

"Poison? I thought I was joking," said Harry.

"Nope, you weren't," said Vinconex. "Although, since he's still a hatchling the poison won't kill him. It'll probably make him have explosive diarrhea and vomiting fits."

Harry relayed that information to Ron. "Damn you Norbert!" Ron growled.

"Tell Hagrid that there is not much more I can do for him as far as basic training and combat maneuvers," said Vinconex. "Reason being, there is not enough space. Soon Norbert will be discovered, and Hagrid will get his ass thrown in Azkaban for 25 years, plus Dumbledore's credibility will be in the shitter."

Harry repeated everything Vinconex said, sans the curse words.

"Bird's right," said Hagrid. "I knew this day would come, but I just wanted it to not be so soon."

"I'll talk to Charlie," said Ron. "He'll find a way."

And this was just the beginning of Easter break. Fun, right?

Dear Ron

I got your message. The Norwegian ridgeback will be highly difficult to transport, but not impossible. Meet me at the top of the astronomy tower a week from this Saturday. And, I can't stress this enough, you never got this letter. The fact that the ridgeback is in this school is breaking a ton of laws.

Sincerely, Charlie

Ron was still in the hospital wing. Apparently that poison was more powerful than he'd thought. Luckily Madame Pomfrey didn't do the wizard equivalent of a tox screen. She only fed him potion after potion to help combat whatever it was that was upsetting his stomach.

"So, you guys can mend bones," said Harry. "You guys can fix blindness, regrow hair, make acne all but disappear, do reconstructive surgery in minutes, and fix teeth in seconds, but you can't fix a simple upset stomach?"

"On the defense of wizard kind, which you happen to be part of, by the way," said Vinconex, "every single potion he is taking has to do with some sort of bacteria, not a poison fed to him by a baby dragon. At this rate he just has to wait it out."

Ron groaned after Harry translated. "Ya know, Malfoy was here earlier."

"Really?" asked Neville, surprised.

"Yeah, his usual, gloating self."

"So, when is that problem gonna fly away?" asked Harry.

"Don't remember, let me check." Ron took his potions textbook and leafed through the pages. Nothing really happened. Ron's face turned paler, which was surprising.

"It's gone," said Ron in a hoarse whisper.

"What is?" asked Hermione.

"I wrote a note to remind myself. It's gone!"

"Well, didn't you save that letter?" asked Neville.

"Probably, but it's in my trunk, which is not here, along with this note, which was here before Malfoy came."

"Damn Malfoy," growled Harry. "I swear, I want him to cast that killing curse thing at me. See if the results are similar to last time."

"Harry!" gasped Hermione with astonishment.

"Hermione, he's got us by the balls," said Harry. "If we get caught, we're all screwed. Charlie'll get in trouble for assisting in something illegal or some crap, which will kill the Weasleys, which will make Ron the black sheep of the family. Then, Hagrid will be busted, which will put a black stain on Hogwarts. And then, can you imagine how many pissed off parents'll come running down here? Hogwarts'll be empty, closed and searched by the end of Easter break."

"You can be really psycho sometimes," said Neville, staring at Harry.

"Wasn't it a week from tomorrow?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," said Ron. "A week from Saturday."

"Well, we've got one thing Malfoy doesn't," said Hermione.

"What?" asked Neville.

"The invisibility cloak," said Hermione.

The day finally arrived. Ron had gotten out of the hospital wing six days ago, but due to the limited space afforded, he offered to stay behind. It was a very tight fit as it was. Harry, Hermione and Neville had to walk extremely slowly and carefully, hugging each other tightly while still being covered with the cloak. They went down to Hagrid's. Hagrid opened the door, an enormous crate in one hand.

"How're we gonna carry that thing?" hissed Harry.

"No idea," said Hermione.

"I guess we should've thought of that," said Neville sheepishly.

"I got an idea," said Harry. In his head, he screamed, "Vinconex!"

"On my way." Vinconex materialized in a burst of black fire.

"Think you can carry that crate?" asked Harry.

"Yup. I still got that phoenix power at full strength," said Vinconex, clutching the crate and lifting up with ease with his talons. "But you three stooges are still coming with me. I don't speak human."

Harry translated, and they grabbed on to Vinconex's tail feathers. "Let's go."

"You're doing the flaming, pal," said Vinconex. "I'm already bogged down with this sucker."

Harry shrugged. He looked at Hagrid. "Well, guess this is goodbye for Norbert."

"I've got 'im nice and comfy," sniffed Hagrid. "He's got his favorite teddy bear there, some nice dead chickens and a warm blanket." Harry could make out a faint tearing sound which probably meant Norbert's favorite teddy was having a very bad day.

"Goodbye, Norbert," sniffed Hagrid. "Daddy will never forget ya. You behave with those dragons you hear?"

Harry tried his best not to laugh at this very weird sentimental moment. "Everybody grab my shoulder," said Harry.

Neville and Hermione gave him a questioning look before putting a hand on his shoulder. Harry grabbed tightly on Vinconex's tail feathers and concentrated on the top of the astronomy tower. They disappeared in a swirl of black fire. After getting some exclamations of astonishment, Harry told them about the familiar bonding ritual passing on some unique abilities of one of the bonded to the other. They waited with baited breath, hoping against hope they wouldn't be caught.

"Well, Harry, think I'll get back to my hunting. Catch you some other time." He gently set the crate down on the ground. He stuck his beak in an opening and warbled softly. Harry heard several growls and sniffling in response. Vinconex ascended to the skies, vanishing in a swirl of black fire.

"That is one awesome bird," said Ron.

Finally, several specks could be made out far in the distance. They grew larger and larger, until they resembled black-clad figures on broomsticks, swiftly making their way towards them. They finally arrived, landing gracefully in front of them. The head of the group approached them and pulled back its hood. A grinning face framed by flaming red hair greeted them.

"Hey guys, I'm Charlie," said Charlie. "So, where's the ridgeback?"

Harry motioned to the crate. "Nice to meet you Charlie, by the way," said Harry.

Charlie smiled, looking at Harry, his eyes glued to his forehead. "Harry Potter," said Charlie. "And here I thought Ron was just fibbin'."

"Nope," said Harry.

After exchanging greetings and being introduced to the other people in the group, a very cheerful bunch of guys, they got down to business. The group showed them the harnesses they had brought with them, attaching them securely around the crate and rigging the harnesses to link all of their brooms. Finally, when it was all done, Charlie smiled at Harry and friends.

"Well, it was nice knowing' you all," said Charlie. "Goodbye." The group waved to the quartette, who waved back.

"They seem really nice," commented Harry.

"Thank God that's over with," said Hermione.

Then, they all heard it: voices in the distance. They quickly donned the invisibility cloak and huddled as far away from the stairs as possible, while still being able to make out the voices, who were in a heated argument.

"Professor, I told you, Potter, Granger and Longbottom are heading up to the tower tonight to rescue an illegal dragon. You've got to listen to me."

"That's quite enough, Mr. Malfoy. No matter the circumstance breaking curfew is a school rule violation. Fifty points from Slytherin should suffice, plus a detention.

"Professor McGonagall, you've gotta listen to me—"

"Enough! Be thankful my punishment is light. It really ought to be more considering this cock and bull story you concocted just to get Potter and his friends in trouble."

Harry grinned. They made sure that the voices were gone before they took off the cloak.

"Malfoy's in trouble!" squealed Hermione. "I could sing."

"Please don't," said Harry, laughing.

"Let's go," said Neville.

They ran down the astronomy tower stairs and came down at the bottom, and stopped dead in their tracks.

"Oh, dear, we are in trouble," drawled the unmistakable voice of Argus Filch. They stared with horror at each other. They were complete idiots. They had dropped the cloak on the astronomy tower and didn't bother to notice.

"We're fucked," thought Harry.

"Come with me," said Filch.

It was like a chain gang. They shuffled along, staring resolutely at the floor. They were doomed. What would happen to them? Malfoy got 50 points docked from Slytherin for just breaking curfew. McGonagall was a competent teacher, but she was extremely strict. They finally arrived at McGonagall's office.

"I just caught these four students out of bed," said Filch gleefully. "I'll leave it to ya to decide punishment." With that, he left, leering at them maliciously before he closed the door behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked McGonagall quietly, her lips drawn in a pencil-thin line.

Everyone stared at the floor.

"An answer, if you please."

Nothing.

"I see," said McGonagall. "You three decided it would be a hilarious idea to concoct a cock and bull story about exporting an illegal dragon, knowing that Malfoy would overhear and most likely tell a professor, getting him in trouble."

"Professor," said Harry weakly.

"Enough, Potter," said McGonagall. "Clearly your mother's respect for the rules was not passed down to you. Fifty points from Gryfindor from the each of you."

"Wo, each of us?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, from the each of you."

Harry did the math in his head, and blanched. "One hundred points, professor? Doesn't that seem a little…"

"Extreme?" asked McGonagall. "Just for that cheek Potter the three of you will receive detention."

They had done it. They had lost the lead in a single night. They were escorted back to Gryfindor Tower by McGonagall, not looking at each other but at the floor. Harry thought he heard soft sniffling from Hermione. They finally arrived.

"I bid you goodnight," said McGonagall. "I should've expected something like this, being raised by a marauder and being son of yet another. You've got it bad, Potter," She smiled at Harry before walking away, motioning for Hermione to follow her back to Ravenclaw Tower.

"She smiled at me," Harry muttered after they all stepped inside. "She gave us all detention, and she smiled at me."

AN: yeah, im a genius. I successfully twisted a major error in the plot into a plausible series of chapters. I am awesome.

Ok, this other update's to fix the issue with the fact that if Hermione was in Ravenclaw, only 100 points would be docked from Gryfindor. I am out of it today.


	18. Chapter 17

The Gryfindors were confused, staring at the hourglass that housed the rubies which told them the amount of points for each house. The amount of rubies was significantly less now. They thought it was some fluke in the magic, but they soon discovered the truth. Harry and his friends were subject to nasty glares for the whole week. Even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house shot glares at Harry, especially Ravenclaw. Not only did they lose Ravenclaw 50 points, but they and the Puffs were tired of Slytherin house always winning.

Slytherin, unsurprisingly, was very happy. Once or twice Harry heard someone shout, "Thanks Potter! We owe you one." Harry would flip them off in response. Not even the 50 points Malfoy lost them seemed to bother them, considering that now they were still in the lead for the cup.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron consolingly. "Fred and George lost Gryfindor tons of points, but everyone still likes 'em."

"Well have they lost Gryfindor a hundred points in one go?" asked Harry.

"Well, no," said Ron. "But come on. They'll forget it within a week or two."

And finally, the day of reckoning arrived. It was a beautiful Saturday morning when Harry, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy got their note from McGonagall. It stated simply:

Your detention shall be held at 8 pm tonight. Be at the entrance hall by then. Failure to show up will result in a deduction of 50 points, yet another detention, and a written note to your parent/guardian.

"Damn, what's her obsession with the number 50?" wondered Harry aloud.

"Have fun," said Ron dryly, taking a bite out of a sausage.

So it was with heavy hearts that the four trudged towards the entrance hall. Harry and Neville shot death glares at Malfoy. However, it wasn't McGonagall who showed up but Filch.

"Follow me, you lot," he growled. They did as they were told. "Bloody bleeding hearts. Back in the day they used to hang you by your thumbs in the dungions. God how I miss the screaming."

"You're messed up," said Harry simply.

Filch ignored him. "I always keep some chains and cuffs ready, just in case," he said with malice.

They finally arrived. They had gone outside Hogwarts and arrived at Hagrid's cabin.

"The gamekeeper's overseeing detentions now?" Malfoy said nastily. "God this place has gone to the dogs."

Filch knocked on the door. Hagrid came out, a crossbow aimed at Filch's throat. Fang, the boarhound, was at Hagrid's heels.

"I've got 'em ready," Filch said, clearly undisturbed by the fact that a very dangerous weapon was aimed at his jugular.

Hagrid lowered the crossbow and stepped outside. "We'll be going into the forbidden forest," he said.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Malfoy.

"I'll be back in the morning," said Filch, grinning at Malfoy, "to pick up what's left of 'em." Malfoy's face grew even paler than usual.

After Filch vanished, Hagrid turned to them. "You will be helping me out," he said.

"What?" asked Malfoy.

"I said, you will be helping me out," said Hagrid, in very slow, exaggerated English. "Earlier this week, I came across a dead body: a unicorn."

"But that's impossible," said Hermione. "They're extremely hard to kill."

"Which is why this got me worried," said Hagrid. "Earlier today I saw a trail of unicorn blood. Your task is simple: either find the unicorn and report back. Maybe the poor fella's dead, maybe he's still alive and on his last legs. Now, let's go."

"But this is servant's stuff," complained Malfoy. "When my father hears about this—"

"Your father has served worse detentions than this, Malfoy," growled Hagrid. "Whatever happened to pride in the Malfoy name, eh? Now suck it up and follow me."

Harry internally cheered at Hagrid's comeback.

"But there's werewolves," insisted Malfoy.

"Its not even full moon, you idiot," said Harry.

They entered the forest and stopped at a clearing. Hagrid turned to them. "Ill split ya up into pairs," said Hagrid. "One will go with me, the other with Fang."

"I'll take Fang," said Malfoy, looking at the huge dog hopefully.

"Suit yourself," said Hagrid. "But just so you know, he's a ruddy coward. Well then. Harry, Hermione, you come with me. Neville, Malfoy, you go with Fang. Send red sparks with your wands if you found something or if you're in trouble."

The group split up. Hagrid lead them towards a very confusing maze of twisty little pathways, all alike. Harry's keen nightvision helped a great deal, but not enough to guide him. If it weren't for Hagrid's knowledge of the forest, they would all be lost. Then, they heard galloping. Harry unholstered his wand immediately, assuming a fighting stance.

"Relax," said Hagrid. "Its just a centaur."

Harry still kept a firm grip on his wand. The galloping got closer. Instantly, a tall, naked man came into view. He had dark brown hair and a muscular torso. The lower half of him, however, was a horse withchestnut hair.

"Hello, Ronan," said Hagrid.

"Good evening, Hagrid," rumbled the centaur. He looked at Harry. "Be still, child. I bare no threat to you."

Harry nodded and holstered his wand.

"'Have ya seen a unicorn anywhere by any chance?" asked Hagrid.

"Mars is bright tonight," came the answer.

"Uh, right. But have you seen a unicorn? I saw unicorn blood earlier today and we think the poor fella's barely alive."

"It is always the innocent who are first to die," said Ronan.

"Yeah, but have you seen a unicorn?"

"Mars is bright tonight," was the reply. "Too bright."

"Oh sod off," muttered Hagrid.

"Farewell, sons of Adam and daughter of Eve," said Ronan, galloping off into the distance.

"What the hell was that all about," said Harry.

"Centaur's are really, really smart critters," said Hagrid. "But getting info out of them is next to impossible. Bloody stargazers." Instantly, they heard a cry, followed by red sparks and barking. They sprinted towards the source. Neville was standing there, his wand in his hand, with Malfoy laughing at him.

"What happened here," growled Hagrid.

"He grabbed me from behind," said Neville, staring at the floor. "I panicked ok?"

Hagrid sighed with exasperation. "You, come with me," he said. "You," pointing at Harry, "go with Fang."

Harry and Malfoy glared at each other when the other three left.

They continued to walk for about half an hour, Fang in the lead. They were walking deeper and deeper into the middle of the forest. The moon was barely visible now. Harry could now faintly make something silvery. There were puddles of it on tree roots. It did look like blood, but it was perhaps the most beautiful kind of blood Harry had ever seen. It seemed to shine with a light of its own. Great splashes of it were everywhere, as if that poor creature was thrashing about in that place.

"My father'll hear about this," said Malfoy.

"Scared, Malfoy?" asked Harry, grinning. "Scared of the big bad fowbidden fowest?"

"Shut up, Potter," said Malfoy, walking off. Harry followed.

"Aww, is Pwetty Dwaco Malfoy afwaid?" he taunted.

"I swear, Potter, one more word, and…" He stopped. They had arrived at a clearing, and they gasped at what lay within. Harry had never seen anything more majestic and sad in his life. The unicorn was pure white in color, its mane luxurious in its splendor even in death. Several great gashes were on its right flank. Its legs were spread apart, its head resting on his front left hoof. Then, they heard something. It was a slithering noise. Then, out of the bushes, crawled a cloaked figure, appearing to be something out of a cheesy horror movie. It headed towards the unicorn's right flank and bent down over it.'

All of a sudden, Harry cried out as pain, unrelenting, unimaginable pain, lanced through his scar. He sank to his knees, clutching at his head. Malfoy turned around and ran for it, Fang not far behind.

The figure raised itself upright, turned around, and headed toward Harry, who couldn't blood was dripping down its front.

Suddenly, Harry heard hooves, and the next second, he saw something jump clean over him, charging at the figure. The figure ran off, and Harry got a clear look at his rescuer.

It was a centaur, who looked much younger than Ronan. He had white-blond hair and a palamino body. "Are you alright?" he said softly.

"Yeah," said harry, dazedly getting to his feet. He staggered a bit, but the centaur put a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder. "Who are you?" Harry asked.

"I am Firenze," the centaur replied.

"Thank you," said Harry. "What was that thing?"

The centaur stared at Harry with eyes the color of sapphires. His eyes lingered for a second on Harry's scar, which stood out very livid on his forehead.

"And you are Harry Potter," said Firenze. "You must return to Hagrid. The forest is not safe, especially for you."

"What was that thing?" Harry asked again.

Firenze didn't answer. "Can you ride? It'll be quicker this way."

Harry nodded. Firenze lowered himself so that Harry could mount. Harry leapt on top of him, grabbing ahold of Firenze's neck.

They rode off, Firenze galloping at a very quick and steady pace. Then, Harry heard more galloping. Two centaurs rushed from the trees, one of them Ronan.

"Firenze!" thundered the other centaur. "How dare you have a human on your back? You are a noble centaur, not some common mule!"

"Do you realize who he is, Bane?" shot back Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The sooner he leaves the forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger. "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on. "Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must!"

Firenze turned around and headed off, Harry extremely confused by the entire ordeal. "What the hell was that all about?" asked Harry.

The only response he got was Firenze warning him to keep his head down to avoid low-hanging what seemed like hours of silence, Firenze spoke.

"Harry, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry. "I mean, we used horns in potions and tail hairs in our wands."

"Ah, but unicorn blood is a very powerful and deadly substance," said Firenze.

"Then why don't people use it?" asked Harry, clearly puzzled.

"It is a monstrous thing to slay a unicorn," said Firenze, a tinge of anger in his voice. "Only a heartless soul with nothing to lose but everything to gain would commit such a heinous crime. The blood of a unicorn can keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. However, your life will be forever cursed. The act of slaying something so pure, so innocent, so defenseless, it is so unspeakably evil that you will live a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

"Who would do such a thing?" asked Harry, disgusted. "Who would want such a life? I'd rather be dead than have a cursed life"

"To you and I this is true," said Firenze. "However, to someone who only needs unicorn blood for a while, until they can drink an elixir that will ensure complete immortality, it is an acceptable compromise."

"Still, who would do something like that?" asked Harry.

"Can you think of no one?" asked Firenze. "Have you ever heard of the sorcerer's stone, by any chance?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Its in Hogwarts, I know it is."

"A stone that grants the user unlimited wealth and immortality. What man has gone to great strides to ensure his immortality?"

"Voldemort," said Harry softly. He could hardly breathe. Sirius had told him about that night, how that spell backfired and ended Voldemort's reign of terror. He remembered Sirius's words.

"He's still out there," Sirius had said. "He's extremely weak, definitely messed up in every possible way, but he's still out there, biding his time.

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione came running towards them, Hagrid not far behind. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," said harry. "Hagrid, the unicorn's dead. Its in that clearing back there."

Hagrid bowed his head. Then he rushed off to examine the body.

"Harry Potter," said Firenze solemnly. "This is where I leave you. You are safe now."

Harry dismounted, thanking Firenze.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "Even centaurs have read the planets wrongly before. I sincerely hope this is one of those times."

"Um, I have no idea what you mean, but thanks," said Harry, waving Firenze goodbye as he galloped away.

Harry and Neville returned to the common room, seeing Ron passed out on a couch. Harry roughly shook him awake.

"What!" grumbled Ron, getting to his feet. "Oh, its you. I was waiting for ya to get back. So, how's detention."

Harry told them everything. "Snape doesn't want the stone to get rich," he concluded. "He wants the stone for Voldemort. So Firenze saving me defied some shit about the planets predicting Voldemort would return to do me in. So all we gotta do is wait till Snape gets the stone, resurrects Voldemort so he can finish me off. Bane'll be really happy."

"Would you stop saying the damn name?" Ron hissed.

Harry ignored him. "I'm fucked," he muttered. "I've got to tell Sirius everything, whatever he said be damned."

"Hold on a minute," said Ron. "You're forgetting one thing: Dumbledore's the only wizardYou-Know-Who ever feared. As long as he's around, you're untouchable."

Harry was slightly comforted by that thought. He went up to his dormitory. He stifled a surprised gasp when he found his cloak folded neatly under his pillow. He had completely forgotten about that.

Exams were very, very stressful for all students. Harry had it worse. He half expected Voldemort to appear right in the middle of the classroom and strike him down. On top of that, his scar was twinging very uncomfortably ever since that night in detention. Even worse were the nightmares of dark, hooded figures in cloaks all drinking silvery blood, high, cold laughter, and flashes of green light.

Finally, their exam for potions began. An hour of brewing some stupid memory boosting potion that Harry had forgotten how to do was the only thing that stood in his way to freedom. After that was taken care of, the quartette headed over to the lake to relax.

"Damn scar," Harry muttered.

"You should really get that checked out," said Hermione.

"No," said Harry. "I think it's a warning. It means danger's coming."

"Trust me," said Ron. "You-Know-Who would ask you to marry him rather than try to do you in with Dumbledore in the castle."

Harry nodded, a small smile on his face. He thought of Hagrid for some reason. How was he faring without that dragon for company. Vinconex seemed to take a liking to that dragon. Harry froze, his face growing pale. "We gotta go to Hagrid's," he said breathlessly.

"Why? I'm comfy here," said Ron.

"I just thought of something. Come on!"

The group followed Harry to Hagrid's, shooting him confused glances."Guys," said Harry, "don't you think it a little suspicious that Hagrid wants a dragon more than anything in the world, and a stranger just out of the blue turns up with a dragon egg in his pocket? I mean, if its against wizarding law then wouldn't the odds of being a guy with a dragon egg in his pocket be next to nil, especially out in broad daylight?"

Their faces grew pale as they followed his line of thought. Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, Hagrid opening it.

"Oh, its you four," he said jovially. "Come on in, just made a pot of tea."

They went inside and paced around nervously. "Hagrid," started Harry. "How exactly did you get Norbert?"

"I won him," said Hagrid. "I was at the Hog's Head, a pub down in Hogsmeade Village, and this bloak comes up to me he says, "You interested in a dragon egg?" I say yes. So we play and the guy asks—"

"What'd he look like?" interrupted Harry.

"Don't know. He was wearing a cloak for the whole thing, looked a bit dodgy but you get those kind of people from time to time at the Hog's Head. Anyways, I beat him, but he seems hesitant to give me the egg. He wanted to make sure he was putting it in good hands, so I said to not worry. After Fluffy, I could handle anything."

"You told him about Fluffy?" asked Ron.

"Course I did. How many Cerberuses can ya find nowadays, let alone people who are good at handling 'em? So I tell him, the trick to taming any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy for example: a little bit of music and he falls straight to sleep." His face suddenly went pale. "I should not have said that," he muttered.

The quartette got up, thanked Hagrid for the tea, and ran outside, Hagrid shouting, "Hey, where you going!" all the while.

"We've got to tell McGonagall," said Harry.

"But we'll get into trouble!" protested Hermione. "We'll be expelled!"

"If we don't tell her," growled Harry, "there won't be a Hogwarts to get expelled from!"

They rushed inside. McGonagall was right there, and there was no one around. "Professor!" panted Ron. "We've got some info for you!"

"I don't have the time for—"

"It's about the stone!" cried Harry.

"How did you know?" gasped McGonagall.

"Never mind that now," said Harry. "We need to see Professor Dumbledore immediately."

"I do not know what you are talking about, but let me assure you that the stone is very well-guarded. Furthermore, Professor Dumbledore got an urgent message from the ministry telling him they require his assistance immediately."

Everyone's faces grew even swore under his breath. "Be off now," said McGonagall. "It's a nice day."

She headed down the hall and exited the castle. The four stared at each other.

"We're going in tonight," said Harry. They went down the entrance hall and froze at the sight of Snape, strolling calmly towards them.

"What are you four doing here?" he drawled.

"Nothing, sir," said Harry.

"But it's a lovely day," said Snape. "The sun is out, and exams are over. Yet you remain indoors. People might think you're… up to something…"

Harry tried his best not to curse Snape right then and there. Snape just shrugged and stalked off.

That night, the four got ready. Harry got his flute that Hagrid had given him for Christmas. Vinconex was flying invisibly above them, ready to defendthem. They trudged down the staircase to the common room at 11:30 PM. Harry flamed them to the third floor corridor entrance. They opened the door. Low, rumbling growls met their ears. Harry saw a harp in the corner, playing a beautiful melody on its own. The music put Fluffy in a deep slumber.

"How do we get down there?" whispered Ron.

"We lift his paw," said Harry, motioning toward Fluffy's front paw, which was resting on the trapdoor itself. They quietly approached him, and Harry reached out towards the paw.

"One." They put their hands on the paw. "Two." They inched the paw upward. "Three." They moved the paw ever so slightly away from the trap door. Then, they heard nothing.

"Um, did the music stop?" whispered Ron.

"Yup," said Harry. "It did." He quickly started to blow into his flute. All that came out were some thweeping sounds, but that was music to Fluffy, for he got down to sleep again. They opened the trap door and almost recoiled at the yawning abyss below them.

"I go first," said Harry, blowing on his flute still. The other two nodded fervently. Harry took a tentative step forward, then jumped. He threw out his arms to slow his fall, dropping the flute in the process. Vinconex descended along with him, but at a much more controlled rate. Meanwhile, they had forgotten that the flute was keeping Fluffy awake. With that gone, Fluffy was slowly regaining consciousness. Harry's gutt clenched as he heard the thundering barks and the frightened screams of his friends. Finally, he landed in something soft and pleasant. He looked around. "Guys!" he shouted. "Its ok, it's a soft landing!" The three others appeared, nervous and relieved at the same time.

"Damn those heads can be really scary," said Ron.

"What did we land on anyway?" asked Harry.

He felt the floor. It was rather soft, but a bit slimy. Then, he felt something groping his leg. "Guys, quit touching my leg," he said.

"Not me," they chorused.

Then, Harry saw it: a thick, slimy tentacle was wrapping itself around Harry's leg. Harry instantly pulled on his leg, but the grip was ridiculously strong. "Guys, something's got me," he said, panic lacing his every word.

"Its on my waist!" cried Ron, tugging feverishly on the tentacles that ensnared him.

"Struggling'll do no good!" shouted Neville. "Just stay calm. This is devil's snare!"

"Oh gee," said Harry. "Now I know the thing that's trying to kill me! I feel loads fricking better!"

"Don't you people pay attention in herbology?" cried Neville. "It likes the dark and the damp."

"Of course!" said Hermione. "Neville you're brilliant!"

"Use fire," said Neville.

"Yes, of course," said Hermione. "But there's no wood!"

"Have you gone mad woman!" shouted Ron. "Are you a witch or not!"

Hermione glared at Ron, blushing. She pulled out her wand and cried, "Insendio!" Fire sprayed from the tip of her wand, engulfing the plant. They heard a lout shriek before the plant gave way beneath them. They landed painfully on the floor of a large, circular chamber.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, looking around.

"There are birds," said Hermione. They looked. Sure enough, a group of winged creatures were buzzing about, flying back and forth. However, Harry didn't see birds.

"They're keys," said Harry. "Winged keys."

"For what though?" asked Neville.

"Probably for that," said Harry. He pointed to a huge wooden door at the other end of the chamber. They all went towards it. Instantly the keys swarmed toward them. Harry fended them off with his hands, but he still got some scratches. Hermione tried the door. Locked. "Alohamora!" Locked.

"You're looking for an old-fashioned key," said Ron. "Probably silver."

Then, Harry saw it: an old broomstick. They all stared at him.

"Come on mate," said Ron. "You're the youngest seeker in a century! You can do it."

"This seems too easy," said Harry.

"Just get the key," said Hermione.

Harry grabbed the broom off the wall and mounted. He shot into the air, his eyes searching for the snitch, a-hem, key. He was weaving in and out to avoid the keys that were trying to scratch him. Finally, he saw it. It was an old key, larger than the others. One of its wings was bent so that it was flying slower than the others. Also, it was silver. Harry shot toward it, his hand outstretched. His fingers closed triumphantly around the key. He smiled and whooped with joy before landing on the ground. He approached the door, still swatting away the other keys. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The quartette quickly ran inside, closing the door behind them. They heard a collective thud as all the keys slammed against the door.

"It's a chess game," said Vinconex in Harry's mind. Sure enough, the room's floor was decorated by tiles. Statues were arranged on the floor. Ron grinned, quickly adapting to the situation. It was like a regular chess game all over again, until the end.

"I need to sacrifice myself," said Ron.

"What?" shouted Hermione.

"It's the only way. If I do, then that leaves the king wide open for a checkmate."

"No, there's got to be another way," said Harry.

"Look man, we all have to do our part in this. Neville did his with his plant thingie, Hermione saved our necks with that fire, and now I have to do my part."

"No," said Harry desperately. "Don't do this!"

Ron ignored him. He stepped forward. The white queen mercilessly struck him down with the head of her mace. Ron fell to the floor, unconscious. Harry stepped forward to the open square. "Checkmate," he said. The white king froze. His sword clattered to the ground, and the remaining pieces kneeled before Harry.

"I'll take Ron back," said Neville. "We can't just leave him here unconscious, and who knows what's in the other rooms."

"You sure?" asked Harry.

"I'm no good at anything else besides plants,"muttered Neville. " "You won't need me anymore."

"If that's what you want," said Harry. With Hermione following him, he went to the next room and nearly gagged at the smell. A troll was on the ground, a large lump on its head. It was clearly unconscious.

"Someone's been through here," said Harry.

"Its fascinating though," said Hermione. "Each professor used a specific type of defense linked to their subjects. I bet you Sprout provided the devil's snare, Flitwick provided the keys, McGonagall provided the chessboard, and now Quirelle provided the troll."

"So," said Harry, "What does Snape bring to the party?"

They went through that room into a smaller room. It only contained a table with seven bottles that were next to each other. A scrap of parchment was on the table. They yelped as flames erupted on either side of the room. They weren't normal, either. The flames behind were purple, while the flames leading onward were black.

"This must be Snape's defense," said Hermione. She took the scrap of parchment and read aloud:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

"The fuck was that?" said Harry.

"Its obvious, isn't it?" asked Hermione.

"Um, no?" said Harry.

"Its not magic. Its just logic. Some of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic. They'd be trapped in here for hours."

"Like us," said Harry.

"No, of course not," said Hermione. "Just give me a minute." She walked up and down the line of bottles. "Got it!" She pointed at the smallest one. "This will move you forward."

"But that's tiny," said Harry. "Barely a mouthful."

"This one," she said, pointing to a round bottle on the right side of the line, "will take you back."

"You take that one," said Harry.

"But"

"No buts," said Harry firmly. "Voldemort wants me, well he can have me."

"You're a great wizard, Harry," said Hermione, looking at Harry with tears in her eyes.

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, blushing.

"Oh, come off it," she said. "Smarts, books and cleverness. That doesn't define a wizard: friendship, bravery, those define a wizard."

"Well, a good bit of smarts and cleverness could really help me out here," said Harry.

"I believe in you," said Hermione. "As long as you believe in yourself—"

"A little cliched, don't you think?" said Harry, grinning.

"It doesn't make it less true," said Hermione.

"Well, thanks for the support, Hermione," said Harry. Truthfully, he was scared. He was a bundle of nerves. "Go back. Use a school owl to send a message to Dumbledore."

Hermione broke down. She threw her arms around Harry, pulling him tight against her. Tears slid down her cheeks onto Harry's robes. "Please, come back to us!" she cried.

"Um, there there?" said Harry, putting an arm around her. He was at a loss. If only he paid attention in the romance scenes in the James Bond films he would watch with Sirius. Vinconex's voice sounded in his mind, and Harry repeated what Vinconex said. "As long as there's breath in my lungs I will fight," he said. "I want to see your face, Neville's face, and Ron's face when I recover from this, and that's what I'm going to see." Hermione sniffled and broke away.

She grabbed the tiny bottle and handed it to Harry. She took the round bottle, and, after waving goodbye to Harry, downed the contents. She stepped through the purple flames and disappeared from sight.

"That was the hardest damn thing I ever had to do," said Harry to Vinconex.

"You're about to go face to face with a mass murderer and dark wizard, yet you were afraid of a little bit of mushy gushy crap?"

"Yes," said Harry simply. "But I meant every word."

"Good," said Vinconex. Vinconex swooped down, still invisible, and latched on to Harry's shoulder with his talons.

"Ow," said Harry.

"Well, since I'm your familiar, this sort of thing is shared, but only by physical contact," said Vinconex. Harry walked through the door into the next room.

The room was large. It was also quite empty, save for the mirror of Erised. A man was standing before it, muttering to himself. A large purple turban covered the back of his head. He turned around. Harry gasped. It wasn't Snape.


	19. Chapter 18

(Previously, on this shitty fanfic)

Harry donned his breastplate and his shirt of male. He strapped the sword of Gryfindor to his hip. Vinconex was on his shoulder, wreathed in a halo of black fire. They were more than ready to combat the demon that was Voldemort.

Yeah, Harry wishes. In truth, he was just a scared little kid with a sarcastic, thousand-year-old bird for company.

"Quirrell?" asked Harry, disbelief clearly written on his face.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Quirrell, smiling at him. "How nice of you to join us."

"But, I thought, Snape, and…"

"Ah, Severus," said Quirrell, chuckling. "He does seem the type, doesn't he? Swooping around like an overgrown bat? But who would ever suspect p-p-poor st-st-stuttering p-p-professor Quirrell?"

"But, I saw you, in the clearing," said Harry.

"A pathetic ploy on Snape's part to find out my plans," said Quirrell, smirking. "You really have some incompetent sources of information. Anyway, Snape thinks that I am all alone. But what he doesn't understand is that I'm never alone."

"But, the quidditch game? Snape tried to kill me!" protested Harry.

"No, no, my dear boy," said Quirrell. "I tried to kill you. And if it weren't for that bumbling oaf Longbottom tripping over me and breaking my eye contact, I would have succeeded, even with Snape muttering his little counter curses."

"Wait, Snape was trying to save me?" asked Harry, floored.

"Didn't I just say that?" snapped Quirrell.

"But, I saw you. You were getting paler, you were getting real sick!"

Quirrell shuddered. "My master has little tolerance for failure," he said.

"Three guesses as to who your master is," muttered Harry.

"Your insolence shall cost you dearly," spat Quirrell.

"What? I have nothing against Grindelwald. He's a good bloak."

"Gelart Grindelwald is not my master, you idiot," said Quirrell.

"Ok, ok. The Russians?" suggested Harry.

"I grow weary of this," growled Quirrell. "Come forth!"

Harry stepped forward. He was surprised he could keep up this sarcasm for this long. "What?"

"Do not hide behind your pathetic little displays of bravado," said Quirrell. "One doesn't have to be accomplished at such things to see the fear in your eyes. Now come forth!"

Harry stepped closer. He was shaking now.

"Look in the mirror and tell me what you see," said Quirrell.

Harry did so and almost gasped. Instead of seeing his parents, he only saw himself. His reflection was holding a flaming red crystal in his left hand. He placed it in his left pocket, giving him a marauder's grin. At the same time, Harry felt a weight in his left pocket.

"What do you see, boy?" shouted Quirrell.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," said Harry, lying through his teeth. "I won the house cup for Gryfindor."

"He lies!" came an ethereal voice. Harry clapped a hand to his mouth in horror.

"Master, are you sure?" asked Quirrell.

"Yes, Quirinious."

"But, if the stone is in the mirror, how do we get it out? Should I just break the damn thing?"

"The boy knows. Let me speak to him."

"Master you are not strong enough."

"I will be the one to judge what I am strong enough to do, thank you very much."

"As you wish." Quirrell reached behind him and pealed back the turban. Then, he turned around. Harry's scar exploded in pain. It was taking every inch of Vinconex's self-control not to shriek in pain. Vinconex was convulsing in mid-air.

The back of Quirrell's head did not look like your normal, everyday back of a person's head. There was a face, the most horrible, gruesome face Harry had ever seen. It was pure white in color, with vertical slits for pupils. Its nose was flat like a snake's. Its lips were extremely thin, barely visible. "Harry potter," it said. "We meet at last. See what I've become? See what I must do to survive?"

Harry could only nod.

"Mere shadow and vapor I am now, without a corporeal form, forced to live off another like a parasite. However, there is one object that can help me out. It is called the sorcerer's stone. Do you know of it, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh, yes you do. In fact, it is right there in your left pocket. Would you mind handing it over, please?"

"Fuck you," growled Harry.

"My, my, have you not manners? Your language is appalling. What would your mother say?" chided Voldemort.

Harry wanted to rip that face apart with his bare hands, and right now, Vinconex was sharing the sentiment. "Don't you talk about my mother!" he shouted.

"Oh, how insensitive of me," drawled Voldemort. "Respect for the dead and all that."

"Considering you killed her," said Harry.

"Collateral damage in times of war is unavoidable," said Voldemort. "Now, give me the stone."

"Never!" shouted Harry.

"But, you don't understand," said Voldemort. "If I were to be brought back, I could resurrect your mother. I could bring back your father. Sirius would be ever so pleased. Wouldn't it be great? The marauders reunited once more? Your mother raising you like she was supposed to? Who are you to deny yourself, and especially Sirius, that life? And they say I'm heartless."

"Rot in hell, you shit!" spat Harry. He ran for it.

"Kill him!" screamed Voldemort.

Vinconex instantly materialized in a burst of black fire. With a harsh battle cry, he dove at Quirrell with ferocity. Flames blasted from Vinconex, scortching Quirrell's face, making him scream in agony. Harry turned around and pulled out his wand. Ice balls flew from the tip and hit Quirrell in the shoulder, drawing blood. Body binds soon followed. Quirrell, to his credit, managed to dodge them all.

"Kill the bird, you fool!" screamed Voldemort.

Quirrell shot a jet of green light at Vinconex, who expertly avoided it. Vinconex used his tail to stab Quirrell in the shoulder where an ice ball had hit.

"Summon the stone!" screamed Voldemort.

"Accio stone!" shouted Quirrell. Harry held on tightly to the stone. Unfortunately, this meant that he would be pulled along for the ride. He crashed into Quirrell, who toppled to the ground. The stone fell out of Harry's pocket. Vinconex swooped down and snatched it in his claws.

"Seize the stone!" shouted Voldemort.

Vinconex flew as high as he could go, doing circles around the entire room.

"Kill the boy first!" said Voldemort.

Harry instantly fired a stunning spell at Quirrell, who easily sidestepped it, firing a nasty string of curses back at Harry. Harry's reflexes were the only thing that saved him. Harry tried a disarming spell. Quirrell laughed and blocked it.

Meanwhile, Sirius was fast asleep. Then, he felt a vibrating and heard a beeping noise. He bolted upright, staring at the image. Harry had been hit with a cutting curse, and he was dueling what looked like his defense against the dark arts professor. Vinconex was flying above him, clutching a very familiar crystal in his talons. Sirius needed no further encouragement. He quickly donned his deathcon0 uniform, rushed outside, disapparated to Hogwarts, stormed through the gates, and pounded on the front door. Filch opened the door, a lantern in one hand.

"What's your business?" growled Filch.

"Go away, Argus, I've got a godson to save," said Sirius, pushing past Filch and sprinting towards where the third floor corridor was.

Harry was firing spell after spell at Quirrell, who easily dodged them all.

"Expelliarmus," he said. Harry's wand soared from his hand, landing in Quirrell's outstretched palm. He winced and dropped it. His fingers were smoking, and, to his horror, crumbled into dust.

"Now's your chance. Kill him!" screamed Voldemort.

Quirrell rushed towards Harry, intent on doing just that. Harry yelled and rugby tackled Quirrell, sending him sprawling to the floor. His wand slipped from his hand. Harry started raining punches down on Quirrell's face. He noticed that where he hit, that part of Quirrell would turn into dust. Instantly struck with inspiration, Harry put both of his hands on Quirrell's face. His entire face started to disintegrate before his eyes, until finally, all that was left of his head was a pile of dust. Suddenly, a dark wind seemed to blow through the room. Harry could hear shrieking amidst the wind. He was violently knocked backward onto the floor, his head hitting the floor and knocking him out cold.

Harry awoke in a very large, white room. He tried to look around, but regretted it immediately. The light was way too bright. He tried to lift his arm, but his arms felt like lead. "Vinconex?" thought Harry.

"I'm right here, buddy," said Vinconex. Harry felt a weight on his chest. "By the way, there's someone here to see you. It is Dumbledore."

Harry looked up, and for the first time, noticed something golden. "Professor Dumbledore?" he croaked.

Dumbledore beamed down at Harry. "Hello, Harry. I do apologize for not being here sooner."

"It's ok," Harry said again.

"I got called down to the ministry for an urgent matter. However, when I arrived, the minister said that there was no need for me here."

"It was Voldemort who sent that note wasn't it?" muttered Harry.

"Not him, but one of his followers," said Dumbledore. "How are you faring?"

"I feel like crap," Harry said truthfully.

"Yes. Sirius and I found you unconscious, with that bird of yours guarding you like his life depended on it. It took some soothing words from Sirius to get it away from you."

Harry smiled weakly. "Really?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, kid," scoffed Vinconex. "If you go down, I'm screwed. That's the nature of a familiar bond."

"Aww, you wuv wittle hawwy Potter?" teased Harry.

"You're so lucky there are witnesses," growled Vinconex.

Then, Harry remembered something. To Dumbledore he said, "Where's the stone?"

"The cockatrice gladly handed it over to me," said Dumbledore. "After which Nickolas and I agreed that the stone was trouble from the start. It has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" asked Harry, gob smacked. "But, won't Nickolas and his wife die?"

"Well, I am sure they have enough elixir to set their affairs in order, but, yes, they will die. But, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"If you say so," muttered Harry.

"The old coot's right," said Vinconex. "Imagine the wars people would fight over that stone. Hell, that dark lord guy, he's nothing. If the ministry took hold of it, could you imagine the bloodlust that would occur? The resulting death toll would make Voldemort's reign of terror look like a playground bullying."

"Professor," said Harry. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask any question you please," said Dumbledore. "Whether or not I provide the answers to such questions is left completely to my discretion."

"Um, right," said Harry. "Why does Voldemort hate me?"

Dumbledore's face grew grave. "It is a reason which I am afraid you are not ready to handle. Don't get me wrong," he said after Harry opened his mouth, "you handled yourself very admirably back in that chamber. However, you are far too innocent, far too happily free of the burdens of an adult, happily secluded from the carnage of war. I care for you, Harry, and the last thing I would want is for you to lose your childhood."

Harry nodded. He knew it would only confuse him more if he pressed the issue. "Sir, back in that chamber, when I touched Quirrell, and when he picked up my wand, his skin started to burn. Why?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Do you truly know what happened that night?" he asked.

"Well, Voldemort tried to kill me, but my mother jumped in front of the curse."

"Yes, and no," said Dumbledore. "Before they were killed, your parents found an old ritual. It was very old magic, a magic based on the one thing more powerful than any spell, any potion, any enchantment."

"What was that?"

"Love, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Do you know those runes on your wand?" he asked. He picked up Harry's wand and handed it to him. Harry, for the first time, truly paid attention to the faintly glowing symbols on the wand.

"Those are the runes your mother drew all over your room. It could reflect even the most powerful of curses upon the caster, so long as they had sufficient power."

"What was the power?" asked Harry.

"A willing sacrifice," said Dumbledore. "The sacrifice of someone who loves you without condition, who cares for you even above herself. That is what banished Voldemort that night: love. And enchantments like that leave a mark, no, not your scar, a much deeper mark that lies underneath your skin. That is why Quirrell, engrossed in acts of such evil, could not bare to touch you or your wand, which has been imbued with your blood."

"Guess that makes sense," Harry muttered. Then, he looked around. He saw for the first time a small mountain of goodies on his bedside table. "What?" he gasped, pointing at them.

"Tokens from your admirers," said Dumbledore. "The events that occurred down in the chamber were kept secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows."

" Wait, what?" Harry was confused now.

Dumbledore ignored him. He then proceeded to take one of the Bertie Bott's every flavored beans. "I used to love these in my youth," he said wistfully. "until I came across a vomit-flavored one. Since then, I lost my liking for them. Perhaps today will be a lucky day?" He put the bean in his mouth, and he promptly gagged. "Alas, earwax."

Harry chuckled. "Can I ask you a couple more questions, sir?" asked Harry.

"But of course," said Dumbledore.

"How did the stone get into my pocket?"

Dumbledore's face split into a huge grin. "Ah, one of more brilliant ideas, if I do say so myself," he said proudly. "Only if you wanted to find the stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it. Otherwise, all you would see is just yourself living forever or making lots of gold."

Harry whistled appreciatively, then had a troubled expression on his face. "Quirrell said that Snape tried to save me," said Harry. "Why would he try and save me if he hates me?"

"It's Professor Snape, Harry, and it is not my story to tell," said Dumbledore. "It is Sirius's, and it just so happens that he is outside, pacing back and forth contemplating shooting down the door with that gun of his and checking up on you."

Harry smiled, then said the question that was troubling him the most. "Can he come back?"

Dumbledore sighed. "You successfully thwarted a brilliant plan of his to return to full power. However, there are many, many ways he can return. But fear not, many of these methods involve many, many years of preparation."

Harry nodded.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I'd best be off. Sirius is looking very anxious." With that, he jovially waved goodbye to Harry and strode out of the door. Sirius came rushing in, dressed in a full set of jet-black armor, a studded belt around his waist and a huge, scary-looking Remington 20 gauge strapped to his shoulder.

"Harry!" he cried, running towards his bedside. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't get to you in time."

"Hey, Sirius," said Harry, smiling. "Well, at least I'm still alive, kicking and screaming."

"I thought you were a goner down there," said Sirius, conjuring a chair, taking off his gun and placing it carefully on his lap.

"How'd you know to come down here?" asked Harry.

"I get notified whenever you are hit with some sort of projectile," said Sirius. "Dumbledore told me everything, and I couldn't be more proud of you."

"Really?" asked Harry.

"You single-handedly beat down Voldemort and a crony of his while at the same time thwarting an evil plan. Please, name another eleven-year-old that has accomplished that?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno."

"Didn't I tell you? All that training I gave ya came in handy didn't it?'

"Yeah, I guess it did," said Harry sheepishly. "But, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Down there, Quirrell said that Snape was trying to save my life all this year, but the man hates my guts."

Sirius sighed, his expression growing somber. "Harry, what you must understand is, we were kids. We were stupid, irresponsible, and arrogant. I had issues at home that I will not tell you until you're older. But we hated Snape. We hated his guts. Do you have an arch-enemy? Snape was the Marauder's arch-enemy. But one day, we decided to pull a prank on him, completely my idea. Your father realized it was exceedingly dangerous. Snape would most likely die from it. Your father warned Snape of the prank, but that only made Snape's hatred grow stronger."

"Why? I'd be pretty thankful if my life was saved."

"Not for your father," said Sirius. "For you. He was forever indebted to your father. I'd imagine that, in order to repay his debt, he would try everything in his power to save his son, so he could go back to hating James's memory in peace."

Harry nodded, slightly stunned.

"I know I may seem like a bad person right now," said Sirius, "and I am not proud of what I did. But could you find it in your heart to forgive an idiot for his past mistakes?"

Harry smiled. "Sure," he said.

"Let us in!" Three people burst through the hospital door, Madame Pomfrey yelling at them. Ron, Hermione and Neville came bounding over, Madame Pomfrey desperately trying to shoo them out of the door.

"Harry, so good to see you!" cried Ron, grinning down at him.

"So what happened down there?" asked Hermione.

Harry told them everything. "And this guy was a badass," he said, petting Vinconex lightly. "He burned Quirrell's face and stabbed him with his own tail."

"I guess your plan to keep him a secret's been shot, huh?" said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry. "But I still got my one ace in the hole: flaming."

"Yeah," said Hermione, "but people who know about the nature of a familiar bond would be able to figure that one out."

"And how many wizards do you know have familiars?" asked Harry.

"One," she muttered.

"So, what happened on the finals?" asked Harry.

"We were steamrolled by Ravenclaw," said Ron sadly. "And we're still in last place. But, at least the food will be good."

"Oh, Merlin forbid the food be awful," said Harry. "Anything but the food."

"Well, at least Gran will be happy," said Neville. "Although all I did was take Ron back and guard him."

"Ah, don't feel down, Nev," said Harry. "Imagine if Hermione got trapped in the next room? You were our backup plan, our plan b, our cushion to fall back on."

"You could always embellish," suggested Sirius.

"I guess," said Neville.

"Alright, I put up with you for long enough!" shrieked Madame Pomfrey. "I want all four of you out of this hospital at once! Potter needs his rest."

"But—"

"No buts! Out you go!"

The four trooped dejectedly out of the hospital wing, promising to be back tomorrow. Harry now realized how scary Madame Pomfrey could be when she wanted to.

The next day, there was one more visitor. Hagrid walked through the open door, tears streaming from his eyes. "It's all my fault!" he sobbed, looking at Harry with remorse in his face.

"Hey Hagrid," said Harry. "What's your fault?"

"I gave him information on how to pass Fluffy. I'm never drinking again!"

""Come on, Hagrid, Voldemort" Hagrid flinched at the name "probably tricked a lot of people before."

"Dumbledore trusted me," said Hagrid, "and I let him down. I let you down. I let this whole school down."

"Well, I'm still alive, aren't I?" said Harry, smiling.

"You could've died," said Hagrid, blowing his nose into a tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

"But I didn't," said Harry. "Besides, think about it this way. Do you honestly think Quirrell would just give up? "Oh, well, can't get past the dog. Sorry, Master, I'm out." No! He's gonna try and try and try again."

"You forgive me?" said Hagrid, hope shining in his eyes.

"Course I do!" cried Harry.

Hagrid's face broke into a huge smile. "Thank you, Harry," he said. "Oh, and I've got something for ya." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an old-looking photo album. Harry noticed a small part of the corner was charred. He took the photo album and flipped through it. His face lit up with surprise. "These are my parents' wedding photos!" he gasped. "Sirius said they got lost in the ruins!"

"I found them," said Hagrid. "Sorry if it's a little burned."

"This is the best gift I've ever gotten," said Harry, staring at all the pictures. His parents were arm in arm, that woman who looked like Neville was next to Lily, and Sirius was next to James. With a jolt, he realized that that picture looked exactly like the image he saw in the mirror of Erised.

Harry flipped through some more pictures. He saw his mom heavily pregnant. He saw his dad cradling his tiny, newly born self in his arms. He saw Sirius , Remus, and even the rat do the same thing. He reverently closed the photo album and placed it on the bedside table. "Thank you so much," he said in a choaked voice.

"Nah, don't mention it," said Hagrid. "Least I could do."

Later on, Harry was allowed out of the hospital wing at the insistence of Dumbledore. He happily ran towards the great hall, Vinconex in some Amazonian jungle somewhere hunting snakes. When he arrived, everyone was staring at him, the Slytherins glaring at him as usual. He plopped down with Ron and Neville. It was traditional to sit at your house table during feasts, but Hermione was near them anyway. The golden plates, goblets and platters were empty as of yet. Finally, the hall quieted down with a wave of Dumbledore's hand.

"Ah, another year gone," he said jovially. "I hope your heads are all filled with brand new stuff, so it can be emptied during the summer and filled up again next year." There was a smattering of chuckles at this. "Now, I believe celebrations are in order." He waved his wand. The entire décor of the great hall was green and silver. Slytherin House's banner proudly floated in the center, the Slytherins whistling and stomping the floor.

Dumbledore waved his hand again and the great hall resumed its silence. "Gryfindor House is in last place with 312 points, Hufflepuff has 382 points, Ravenclaw has 410 points, and Slytherin has 462 points," he declared, smiling. After the cheers died down, he continued. "However, there are some last-minute points to, as the muggles say, "dish out"." There were confused looks at this remark. "First, to Ronald Weasley, for the greatest chess game Hogwarts has seen in years, I award Gryfindor 50 points." Cheers erupted from the Gryfindor table.

"Second, to Hermione Granger, for cool logic in the face of certain danger, I award Ravenclaw house 50 points!" Ravenclaws raised their fists in the air. "Third, it takes a great man to go off to battle for a cause. It takes a man of equal greatness to stand back and defend their fallen comrades. For this act of altruism, I award Neville Longbottom 50 points!" The Gryfindors exploded. They had 412 points now." "And finally, to Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage befitting the namesake of his house, I award Gryfindor 60 points!" The entire school, save the Slytherins, exploded. Ravenclaw had come in at an insanely close second with 460 points. Finally the snakes' winning streak was over. "And, I believe a change of decorations is in order," said Dumbledore. With a casual wave of his wand, the banner of Slytherin house was replaced by the red and gold of Gryfindor, the lion proudly displayed for all to see. "Now, let the feast begin!" And it did. Harry greedily piled mountains of food on his plate. His relish was only matched by Ron.

Before Harry even realized it, they were sitting in their train compartments. Time really does fly fast when you're having fun. Their trunks were packed, Vinconex was curled up contentedly under Harry's seat, Harry, Ron and Neville were playing Exploding Snap, and Hermione's nose was buried in a book. All was right in the world. Not even Malfoy graced them with his presence.

"Do either of you guys have telephones?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry.

"A what?" chorused Ron and Neville.

"Oh, forget it," huffed Hermione.

When the train finally reached King's Cross, Sirius was waiting for Harry on the platform, smiling down at him. "Let's go, pup," he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"See you guys!" called Harry, waving goodbye. He followed Sirius to the parking lot, smiling at the Toyota Forerunner that waited for them.

Soon to Come:

Like Godfather, Like Godson, book2

The quartette enter a second year of Hogwarts, but there are people being petrified left and right. Who is responsible for this? You most likely already know the answer, but read anyway, or else you may be next! Muahahaha!


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